


Please, please, please let me get what I want

by roommate



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:38:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roommate/pseuds/roommate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nasty writer's block means lack of inspiration, a subpar first draft, and emotional baggage littered all over Joonmyun's living room. Chanyeol helps him take out the trash. (Written for airplanewishes at <a href="http://suholiday.livejournal.com/22633.html">suholiday 2014</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airplanewishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplanewishes/gifts).



_we write about the things that we,_  
ourselves,  
want to experience—  
warmth, security, reciprocated love,  
happy endings and new beginnings.  
but what we fail to realize is that  
we write about things  
that we are capable of turning  
into reality 

"Nope, that's not going to work."

Joonmyun buries his face in his hands but quickly recovers, shoulders snapping back even before Chanyeol can say another word. "You know I mean well, Joonmyun, and I've always had faith in your works and your talent, but—"

"But it's trite." Joonmyun gesticulates something he can otherwise express in words, and he ends up worrying his bottom lip and slamming his foot into Chanyeol's wastebasket. "Cliché. Bland. Boring."

"It's something you've been rehashing time and again. And if I were to be completely honest with you, as I always am when it comes to your works, I'm 80% sure this won't sell."

Joonmyun leans back, finally looking up to meet Chanyeol in the eye. The dark circles under Chanyeol's eyes are much more apparent now, even with the thin veil of his eyeglasses shielding his lack of sleep from the rest of the world. His hair's neatly combed, though, tie loose but tight enough that he doesn't come off as a lazy editor. A small smile surfaces on Joonmyun's lips and he exhales loud enough for he, himself, to hear; only then does he realize that he's held his breath in since Chanyeol dropped the mathematics bomb on him.

He reaches over to fix Chanyeol's tie and smoothen the crinkles on his polo. "80%? Really?"

Chanyeol laughs a little. "Fine. Maybe 75%."

Chanyeol takes Joonmyun's manuscript and slips it in his caddy. Nine out of ten times, this means Joonmyun's work is passable but not astounding, that if Chanyeol squints really, really hard, he might find a gem somewhere in there, or at least an opening where he can fit a rough diamond. Chanyeol's good with that, making things work — for himself, for everyone, but most importantly for Joonmyun.

"Come on, lower."

Chanyeol locks the caddy then stands from his seat, ruffling Joonmyun's hair as he passes by. "You can try to convince me to pull that further down over lunch," he says. He's wearing a brighter grin now, one that reaches his eyes. If Chanyeol tries hard enough, he'll be able to conceal the battle scars of the past few sleepless nights.

"Fine. Lunch is on me, but dessert's on you."

"73%."

Joonmyun hooks an arm around Chanyeol's own. "Good enough."

 

Their duo _officially_ started after the launch party of Joonmyun's first book.

Joonmyun had been under the care of an outgoing editor that time, but Chanyeol did the bulk of the editing, just sought help from the outgoing editor from time to time. Transition period had always been the toughest time, but Chanyeol made it work somehow. 

There wasn't any paperwork involved — things just happened, with Chanyeol slurring, "Your book would've been crap had I not salvaged half of it and aggressively corrected your typos," and Joonmyun just giggling in response. Even in his most drunken state, Joonmyun still had half the mind to agree — the other half was stuck between wondering whether it was him or Chanyeol who had already drifted off or was close to it, at the very least. Alcohol had the habit of slipping from his body way too fast, and in ten minutes he'd snapped out of intoxication, face buried in Chanyeol's chest.

"I probably wouldn't have made the first deadline if you didn't force me to move my depressed ass," Joonmyun said. Chanyeol's breathing was uneven; he probably wasn't fully awake, but Joonmyun knew Chanyeol could hear him. "I mean, I really owe you one. Or two. Or maybe even three! What I'm trying to say is—"

Chanyeol looked at him, eyebrows arching up in an attempt to focus. "You're drunk."

"No, you are."

"I'm amazing; you're drunk and rich." Chanyeol snorted, struggled to get up. He scowled at the friction. "If we work together, we can do a lot of great things."

Joonmyun smiled a little. "You just want me for my talent."

Chanyeol reached out a hand, fingers carding through Joonmyun's hair. His thumb rubbed circles on Joonmyun's scalp and Chanyeol just stared, lips slightly parted, like was about to say something but struggled with the right words or maybe just the right ounce of coherence. And then there it was — Chanyeol tugging him forward, pulling him close for a bone-crushing hug, Chanyeol's laughter muffled in Joonmyun sweat-stained hair.

"Yeah, I do," Chanyeol mumbled. Joonmyun could feel Chanyeol's too pointy nose poking at his scalp, Chanyeol successfully breaking through the last layer of defense.

"I'll give you 50% if you help me with my next novel."

Chanyeol's body was warm. Joonmyun couldn't get up and away from Chanyeol; it's not as if he'd ever intended to. "Sure, you will."

"Sure you can," Chanyeol says now, as Joonmyun stuffs ice cream in his mouth. They're sharing a banana split, but Joonmyun knows Chanyeol will only eat the banana because his teeth are sensitive to cold food. "You'll be able to come up with something fresh, I'm 97% sure." Chanyeol scowls a bit when the small ball of ice cream makes contact with his teeth. "Jesus— _Ow._ "

Joonmyun snatches the treat away from him and segregates the ingredients, moving everything but the ice cream to Chanyeol's unused coffee saucer. "Stop eating ice cream; you'll kill yourself. And I will — I have to, at least — but in such a short amount of time? Chanyeol, you know it takes me—"

"A few minutes in the shower to come up with a good idea, yes." Chanyeol reaches over, taking a bit of the ice cream and slipping it between his lips even before Joonmyun can swat his hand away. "With the right amount of pressure. So I'll keep you on the phone until you think of a good plot, if I have to."

"You'll scrub my back for me?" Joonmyun teases for a while, but quickly takes it back when Chanyeol leans closer, grin tugging even harder at the corners of his lips. "Forget I said that. You want me to try happy endings?"

"It's worth a shot. Besides, you have a lot of time; you submitted your manuscript way ahead of time, I think you've forgotten that bit." Chanyeol shrugs, then snatches the banana split from Joonmyun completely, letting out a triumphant _oh yeah!_ as he dunks a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. "What I'm saying is, even if you haven't had your happy ending yet, you can write about the happy ending of other people, your friends, your family. Jongin finally asking Soojung out, or Jongdae saying his vows to Li Yin — you can work with those. You just have to take the feeling and relish it, relish it until it consumes you, and then write all your emotions down."

"That's—" Not my style, chimes a voice at the back of his mind. He pushes it down and clears his throat. "That doesn't suit me. That's not what I'm known for."

"Then surprise people," Chanyeol replies. There's a challenge written on the curve of his lips, in the way he fixes his eyes on Joonmyun — just Joonmyun — in the way he takes Joonmyun's hand, slips a spoon filled with ice cream in it, and holds Joonmyun by the wrist in an attempt to make Joonmyun feed him.

"Surprise me," Chanyeol finishes through a spoonful of ice cream. Joonmyun leans in briefly, then leans back, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Blow me away."

 

 

In one of the first ever feature articles — one Chanyeol hadn't pulled strings to get — that Joonmyun has ever seen his name in, his writing style was described as careful, measured, calculated. _Each word seems be so carefully picked, like there's an art behind the selection of words to form just one sentence._ But that's the point of writing, isn't is? To carefully pick words to effectively relay messages because you're talking about real people, making sense of real life?

"I'd have to agree," Chanyeol had said with a frown back then. "And it's not really bad, but…" His voice drifted off in a dollop of whipped cream as he chugged down a third of his Butterbeer. "I think it could use more emotions — real emotions, y'know that?"

A writer's work is an extension of himself, people say. If this is true, then he can easily put the blame on his parents.

"If it isn't the prodigal son," his mother says as a greeting, even before he can step inside the house. He offers a small smile and bows, then carries his luggage to the living room, careful not to let the wheels leave marks on the floor. "Didn't think I'd see you in years."

"I was here last month, umma," he replies in the sweetest tone he can muster. His eyes haven't left his suitcase as he pretends to have forgotten his padlock combination. "We made cookies together, remember?"

"Ah, yes, that time." Her voice is warmer now, more reminiscent of the mother Joonmyun has grown up with and less of the woman who has come to berate him for choosing writing as a source of income. "But you weren't alone then. Chanyeol was with you; he's always with you." She crouches beside Joonmyun and works on the combination. Joonmyun doesn't even have the heart to hold back light laughter when she cracks the code. "Where's the little kid?"

"He's a huge kid now." He slips an arm around her shoulders to pull her close and rest his head on his mother's own. "Why does it seem as if you miss him more than you miss me?"

"You call me every other day, honey."

The pull of gravity on the corners of his lips is too strong. "Yes. Yes, I do."

The last time he came home, the couch was facing the opposite direction and the walls were painted mint green. Now, they're a soft yellow, _pastel_ , easy on the eyes yet invigorating, at the same time. His mother has been listless for quite some time already, always moving things around, changing things up. He signed her up for knitting classes six months ago, and three sessions in she'd sent him a pair of scarves and mittens. _For you and Chanyeollie,_ she'd said. _He's the only one I can trust to take care of you._

She picked up another hobby after that, and another, and another. Nothing has ever been good enough for her since his father passed away. _That asshole, he knew he was signing himself up for this— He kept overworking himself— Joonmyun, don't you even dare pull the same stupid prank—_

"I like the pastel yellow," Joonmyun says, turning to face his mother and holding her from an arm's length. "I'll come back to this after I finish my book, right?"

She sighs — dramatically, as she rests her head on Joonmyun's shoulder. "So you came back to let me know you're leaving again. _Predictable._ "

Joonmyun furrows his eyes briefly, then chuckles. "You know me too well."

 

 

"Oh hey, you're alive."

Joonmyun smiles as he settles on the foot of his bed. He's long removed his slippers so he won't have to think about sullying his favorite bed sheets, so he props his feet under his legs, phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder. "I'm at my parents'. Tradition," he replies, exhaling loudly when he finally finds a comfortable position. "And since I have the best mother in the world, she knows you'll be kidnapping me and hiding me in your underground prison for the next few weeks."

Chanyeol's laughter is a bit choppy but it reaches him, nonetheless. Joonmyun smiles. "Oh _come on,_ we all know you're the one who will be locking me up in your place. You can't focus unless I threaten to set your book collection on fire."

"Hey, that's not a nice joke." He laughs, anyway. Chanyeol's coughing, and Neon Trees is playing in the background. Chanyeol has probably taken home a lot of work again; managing three writers who are actively dishing out books left and right has never been an easy task, even for someone as capable as Chanyeol. "I promise I'll get some writing done when I get back. Which is in three days. I'll have a proposal when I meet up with you for… lunch?"

"Lunch is good." There's the sound of typing. "I think? Yeah. I'm all yours on Tuesday. Heaven knows you won't be able to get any writing done without my presence, anyway."

Joonmyun exhales, exaggerated so that Chanyeol can roll his eyes at him — he always does, and Joonmyun can tell even from miles away when Chanyeol's about to do exactly that, that split second between the slow-forming smile on Chanyeol's lips and Chanyeol blowing at his bangs in a dramatic expression of mock discontent. "I don't know what I'd do without you, really."

Chanyeol chuckles. He chokes somewhere towards the end, and Joonmyun holds his breath, waiting for Chanyeol's response. Silence stretches him thin, sends him falling into the bed and sinking in the cushion.

Another burst of chuckles, then, "Not write, obviously. Lord knows I'm your muse or something. I don't know, man. I haven't thought this through yet."

Joonmyun heaves a sigh and he turns over so that he's lying flat on his stomach, face buried in his blanket. He listens to Chanyeol's steady, measured breathing for a while before confessing, "I feel so lost." The sound of typing comes to a halt, and he hears the hitch in Chanyeol's breathing. "I mean, I don't know what to write. I don't know what to write and writing's all I've ever known and now that I… don't have it, I don't know what to do with myself."

There's the sound of something snapping shut and Chanyeol's footsteps growing louder. "Have you been drinking?"

"Hardly. Besides, I can't drink with my mom."

"You want me to go there?"

"Nah." He looks at the space beside him, the other half of the bed still untouched. "I won't be here for long, anyway. "I'll be fine. Just… give me a few days and I'll be as good as new."

"It's part of my job, though." Chanyeol sniffles, then there's the sound of wind howling in the background. "To make sure you have your shit together."

"Stop smoking, Park. Isn't it too late for that?"

Chanyeol chuckles. "You're just jealous because you promised to quit six months ago."

Joonmyun revels in the sound of Chanyeol's laughter, warm and bright and loud, almost blaring in the speakers. It takes a while for Chanyeol to catch his breath, even longer for Joonmyun to gather himself and push himself away from the bed. "And you promised to quit with me. Tough day at work?" he asks, and Chanyeol's laughter dies down completely.

"Joonmyun?"

"Yeah?"

A loud exhale, then. "Say my name for me? Please?"

The last time he received a request from Chanyeol that was completely unrelated to work was when Chanyeol had gotten himself ass-drunk following his break up with the Chinese exchange student, Yixing. "Stay with me?" Chanyeol had said once Joonmyun had tucked him in bed, and he rubbed circles on the back of Chanyeol's hand until Chanyeol pulled him down, enveloping him in a hug.

"Need warmth. Need you here," Chanyeol mumbled. Joonmyun simply nodded and placed his hands on Chanyeol's while saying, again and again, "Not leaving. I'm here."

"Chanyeollie…" His voice drifts off after a while, and when he gets his rhythm he says Chanyeol's name again, then a third time, then a fourth. "Chanyeollie, get some rest," he finally says, adding _please?_ to punctuate his request, and he finally earns Chanyeol's laughter. It isn't as warm as it normally is, but it's better than Chanyeol's silence and Chanyeol's voice a notch lower than the usual. "Is this what happens when you miss me too much?"

"I can never miss you too much." Chanyeol snorts, but rushes, "You ass. Now go to bed and get your shit together. I'm turning in in a few."

"You're just telling me that to pacify me. I know you'll be working until 2 a.m.."

"So you want me to go all the way to Busan just to prove to you that I won't be working until late in the morning?"

"Just come over on Monday if you miss me that much. Umma wants to see you, anyway."

He can hear the smile in Chanyeol's easy breathing, in the way Chanyeol says, "Tell her I miss her, too."

He can hear the excitement in his own voice when he replies, "Tell her that when you see her in person."

 

 

His first book is, more or less, about his perils as Communication Arts graduate and somehow rising from his self-inflicted misery by quitting his job at a network station, the one that paid his bills and his mother's and his cousins', and trying his luck in Star Media Publishing. Twenty-eight year old Cho Jungmo was earning close to half a billion won and he had a beautiful car and he'd just finished paying off his mother's loans from years ago when he decided to send his buffed up resume to various companies. Jungmo ended up landing a job in Google as a technology developer. Jongin made a cameo as his prodigy who kept trying to hit on his secretary. Chanyeol was there, too, as that random guy who frequented coffee shops, the guy in chapter fourteen who actually talked Jungmo into realizing that he was just killing himself by doing work that drained him more than it made him a better marketing manager. _Kim Joonmyun captures the struggles of a person who keeps trying to make people proud at the expense of his happiness very well,_ said one of the reviews. Joonmyun still has that magazine in his shelf.

His second book is about meeting a man named Kris Wu. 

It was Joonmyun's first stab at writing romance. _Rough around the edges, a bit awkward, but then that's how first love is supposed to be,_ said a particular review that Chanyeol had laughed at for at least five minutes. _It eats you up, consumes you, drives you crazy. And it picks you up from the ground, dusts you off until you're brand new again._ Cho Jungmo had made a comeback in that particular novel, three years into the world Joonmyun had built in the past. Kim Woobin, one of the new industry strategists, bumped into Jungmo one fine Friday morning and accidentally spilled coffee all over his laptop. She'd promised to explain to the higher ups about the mishap and she did. Jungmo promised himself not to be attracted to the girl who made him dump all of the research he wasn't able to upload to the company cloud into the waste basket.

Jungmo broke his promise, and Woobin opened his eyes to new things, better things — life outside of work, the concept of rest, getting out of his comfort zone and helping him discover an entirely different passion — singing.

Then Woobin dumped him after reconnecting with her childhood love.

"I'm glad you could come," Joonmyun says now, standing from his seat to extend a hand in Kris' direction. In a white polo and dark blue jeans, Kris looks office-ready and retired from his previous desk job. His leather shoes have traces of stray paint. "Or should I say, I'm rather honored you managed to get your ass out of your studio to see me."

Kris laughs, pink gums peeking from the corners. Joonmyun smiles on instinct, the corners of his lips stretching past their limit. "Fine, fine, I'm sorry for not picking up the past few months. Been busy with a particular project."

Joonmyun gestures for Kris to take a seat, and the latter mouths a 'thanks' in response. "New project? Didn't you just finish this exhibit of yours in Insadong?"

"You know about that?"

Joonmyun laughs a little. "I know more about you than I should." Kris furrows his eyebrows. "Probably. Want to order?"

Kris nods slowly and waves at a waiter nearby.

There's still a tuft of Kris' hair peeking from the menu — he's dyed his hair red now, something Joonmyun remembers Kris raving about from a few years back. He was blond when they met, was blond when they almost got kicked out for laughing too loud at a record store, was still blond when they went to Namsan tower on New Year's. Everything about Kris is sunny, from his bright hair to his bright eyes (when he's not too lazy to move around, at least) and even to his laughter, smooth and silky when it escapes from his lips.

Joonmyun leans forward, then sinks back in his seat, hiding behind his own menu. He's picked out his order minutes ago.

"So, what are you working on now?"

Kris shifts in his seat, scrunches his nose as he searches for the right words to explain what he's been up to since the last day they sat down to have lunch. It will take a good five minutes for Kris to come up with the best narration, another minute for him to synthesize everything, but give him thirty seconds and he'll at least be able to give Joonmyun a good idea of the new set of artworks that has been eating up all of his time. Key phrases to remember are: something exciting, something new, you better be there for the opening even if I forget to send you an invitation, I'd be glad to have coffee with you after the launch only if it's your treat.

"Something new," Kris says after a while. Joonmyun raises an eyebrow, and Kris chuckles. "I mean, something I haven't done before. You know how I used to just paint things in abstract? Paint concepts and all?"

"Yeah. Exactly why everyone calls you Kriscasso."

Kris fake grumbles, rolls his eyes. "Well, forget about that. I'll be painting people for my next exhibit."

" _People?_ " Joonmyun leans closer, but gets cut by the waitress announcing the arrival of their order. "But didn't you say—"

"I know, I know. I've always said that boxing people up in a painting is bad and is the work of the devil, but…" Kris looks down at his coffee, then back up at Joonmyun, meeting his eyes. "Something's missing. I don't know what it is, but I've been struggling with my art these past few months, for the past year, actually, ever since—"

"Ever since?"

Kris furrows his eyebrows and smiles a little. Joonmyun can feel his pulse quicken, more defined at the base of his throat. His own coffee's hot, but his fingers feel too cold for comfort even if his skin's already touching the surface of the cup. He breaks the eye contact, reaching for a packet of brown sugar. The small cup of fresh milk sits comfortably between them and the silence.

"Ever since," Kris repeats. "It's been a while, Joonmyun."

Joonmyun lays his teaspoon flat on the saucer and looks up at Kris. He takes note of the crinkles in the corner of Kris' eyes, his now-chapped lips, a small scar on Kris' left cheek. Kris' jawline is more pronounced now, and he looks at least three years older. Maybe it's the hair; Joonmyun has always loved blond on Kris, but red looks fine, too. Adjusting to new things is always difficult. Joonmyun has never been a fan of change.

"Hasn't it?" he replies. He picks up from where he has left off, adding milk to his coffee and stirring it, glancing at Kris from time to time. "It's been a while since we've last talked about your art."

"Or talked at all, for that matter."

"Or eaten properly." Joonmyun pokes his own cheeks — they used to have more volume a couple of weeks back. "So yes, you're welcome. I'm glad to have saved you from not eating again because you're engrossed in your work. You're welcome, Mr. Wu."

The calamari rings arrive. Kris quickly snatches one, and Joonmyun just laughs. Kris presses his lips together thinly in an effort to keep his laughter in.

"And so are you."

 

 

"I can't believe I let you bring me to Taejongdae."

Joonmyun laughs as Kris walks closer to the cliff, neck craned as if searching for where the wind blows the hardest. Air gets tangled in Kris' hair, and with the warm afternoon sunlight Kris' red locks look less daunting than they had been merely minutes ago. "I'm looking for inspiration. Chanyeol said my new material's pretty boring," he explains, and Kris quickly looks over his shoulder. "And he rarely ever lies to me about my writing."

Kris laughs. "Can't see why he'd even try to lie," he replies, then walks over to where Joonmyun is, ruffles his hair when they're only a foot apart. "I knew you asked me out for a reason."

"Hey, nobody said anything about asking anyone out." Joonmyun punches Kris on the arm lightly, then adds, "I know you're in the area and I just wanted to maximize my stay here. And maybe use and abuse you for inspiration."

"I feel so violated."

"I haven't even touched you—" _Yet._ Joonmyun licks his lips. "You're the only one I know who enjoys staring into oblivion."

"Should I be honored?"

Joonmyun chuckles. The wind's calmed down a bit, and Kris is too engrossed in trying to make sense of his now tousled hair to even say anything, so Joonmyun waits — for the wind to pick up or for Kris to start not giving a care about the chaos that the wind brings, he's not entirely sure. "Probably," he says as if whispering, whistling. "You probably should."

His phone buzzes in his pocket twice, the first beep holding out longer than the second. The first is a calendar reminder for his mother's request to buy their dinner from a particular store, and the second is a message from Chanyeol, saying, _hey don't stay out today, you'll die of the cold :c_ Put miles and miles of distance between them and Chanyeol still finds a way to do his job — as Joonmyun's editor, Joonmyun's best friend, Joonmyun's only willing company when it comes to watching the Lord of The Rings trilogy. The only person who'd pick up a phone call at three in the morning and say, without any trace of doubt, _I'm going to place. Keep your front door open._

Joonmyun quickly types up a reply and slips his phone back in his pocket before turning to Kris. "So, the new artworks you're working on?"

Kris stares for a while, then nods. "The exhibit is in two months. I'd love if it you could come see the new me, Joonmyun." Kris' pink gums peek from the corners of his mouth. "Please?"

Joonmyun's breath hitches. He's weak where it matters most. "I'll see. We'll see."

 

 

Joonmyun still remembers Chanyeol's comment on the first draft of 'The Kris Book' — different, _fresh_ , raw and real, _Jungmo sounds like a high school student in love, Joonmyun. He sounds worse than you when you talk about—_

Fast forward three years and Joonmyun's tapping the 'delete' button furiously, erasing the paragraph he'd just written on Woobin and Jungmo meeting again for the first time in so long.

In the last chapter of the book, Jungmo had promised to move on, but everyone knows that memories of Woobin will forever haunt him. The very last scene is of him sending Woobin off to Amsterdam, watching her retreating back disappear as a flurry of people hide her from his view. She won't be coming back for the next few years — the distance is supposed to make things easier for Jungmo to digest. Pan to the sky, fade to black. The end.

There's a light 'pop' from his speakers, and Joonmyun smiles a little when a familiar chatbox pops up. Enter the third and final installment of Cho Jungmo's tragic life story. Enter Byun Baekhyun.

He met Baekhyun at one of Kris' exhibits back in Seoul. The image of a working professional didn't come across clearly in Baekhyun's acid wash jeans, patterned polo, and neon green sweater, and certainly not in his equally bright snapback. "Hey," he'd said as a greeting, and Joonmyun remembers squinting hard to give Baekhyun a careful, careful look before saying _uh, hi_ in reply.

"The guy who painted this is crazy," Baekhyun went on to say as he pointed at an artwork that looked a lot like Piet Mondrian's _Broadway Boogie Woogie_. It was the last piece in the collection, Kris' attempt at capturing the busy streets of Seoul in abstract. He'd used light washes of circles instead of his usual neon square blocks; as early as then, Kris had been working on change, but habit always got in the way.

"I think it's interesting."

"I think it's wonderful." Baekhyun laughed as soon as Joonmyun raised an eyebrow and leaned back. "It reminds me a lot of Friday nights in Hondgae. And youth. The washes kinda look like people drifting from one place to another, don't they?"

Joonmyun simply nodded slowly for the next three minutes, up until Baekhyun finished his assessment of Kris' work and turned to him with a bright smile on his lips. "Thanks for indulging me in my pointless art rants. I'm Byun Baekhyun, by the way, fast food worker extraordinaire."

Joonmyun extended a hand in response and tried his best to straighten his crooked smile. "Kim Joonmyun, writing superstar."

_Cho Jungmo, Google magician,_ a voice at the back of his head said. _Lee Minjung, a huge fan of Korean dramas,_ said another voice, a softer one, in reply.

There were many facets to Byun Baekhyun, thought — he's one part fast food worker, two parts comic book artist, three parts music enthusiast and two parts dreamer. Three out of five times, Joonmyun had somehow been dragged by Baekhyun to exhibits of once-frustrated artists who'd somehow found success in creating comics that were eventually translated into a full-length animated series. The other two times, they spent sitting opposite each other in a KFC nearby. "One more burger from McD's and I'll probably grow patties in my hair," Baekhyun had said one time. He took off the cap of his Krushers and drank from the brim, a smudge of ice cream flaunted on the corner of his lips. Joonmyun contemplated on reaching out, but he knew better than to assault strangers with touch; the first time he slid an arm around Kyungsoo's shoulder, Kyungsoo shuddered. He'd have done the same if it was anybody else but Chanyeol. "Besides, KFC's more quiet. You speak too softly; I always have to lean closer to hear you."

"What if I was doing that on purpose?" Joonmyun almost choked at the end; he hadn't tried this hard since— "To get you closer?"

"You're cute." Baekhyun licked his lips. "But I'm cuter, so you'll have to try harder."

"You'll have to try harder if you really want to focus on writing," says Kris now, chin rested on Joonmyun shoulder. Joonmyun shrugs him off — on instinct or in defense, he isn't sure — and reaches for his cup of coffee between two laptops. Kris has set up his mobile studio to his right, tablet and all, and Joonmyun's made himself way too comfortable to Kris' left, even going back to a familiar place somewhere between making sure Kris isn't reading what he's writing and _actually writing._

"I thought you were busy," Joonmyun retorts, quickly minimizing the document he has open. He peers at Kris' screen and Kris shields it from his view, fingers splayed all over the screen.

"Never too busy to make sure you're doing your thing."

Joonmyun brings the cup closer to his lips, a smile disappearing behind the cup. "I'll be fine on my own. Go do _your thing._ "

"If you were, then you wouldn't have dragged me here to help you think."

Laughter spills from the corners of Joonmyun's lips. "Focus, _Wu._ "

Kris stares a while longer, until his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. Here they are again — the melting point, where Joonmyun lunges forward and sinks right back in his seat. He rolls his eyes before fixing his attention back on the blank document in front of him, cursor blinking abnormally fast.

He takes a deep breath. From the corner of his eye, he can see Kris' slightly tilted head, eyes peeking at him from the corners. He taps the backspace key lightly a few times, stops completely when Kris' gaze leaves him and warmth begins to wrap around his fingers again. 

_It's not just about you, Cho Jungmo._ Woobin's words ring in his ears. Writing makes and breaks him.

 

 

It takes a good ten minutes before they're able to shuffle back into their cars, Kris driving off in his dashing new Ferrari and Joonmyun in his Audi. He'd gotten it two years back, with Kris harping about the _Estoril blue crystal_ variant suiting him better. "But I like _phantom black,_ Joonmyun had insisted, and Kris retreated by five steps, a playful smile on his lips as he said, "Fine. It's your car, after all."

"It's impractical to have separate cars," he remembers Kris commenting one time. Kris had a silly smile on then as he sank in in his seat, eyes closed as he threw his head back. "I love the leather seats, by the way. Why didn't I get a this car again? Why did I ever wait out buying my own car?"

_Because you wanted it to be just us two,_ Joonmyun finds himself whispering as he collapses on his bed. There are too many smiles that Kris wears, but the one of that night is what he remembers the most. _Me and you, just us two,_ he says again, this time clearer, louder. The whispers run a shiver down his spine. In the silence of his room, the faintest of sounds can be deafening.

 

 

The cold 5 a.m. breeze isn't exactly a stranger to Joonmyun, but have it slivering through his window and he growls at it like a person encroaching Joonmyun's concept of a good morning. Beside him, his phone blinks, the green light going off every few seconds. Two text messages, both from Chanyeol — _hey boo, you sleeping well?_ says the first; the second, _you do know i'm coming earlier than expected, right? want anything from the wonderful land of seoul?_

_just u,_ Joonmyun replies. Chanyeol will berate him later for the shortcuts, but Chanyeol knows very well Joonmyun can barely spell properly pre-morning coffee. _kdinap me jsut in tme fo brakefst?_

Joonmyun erupts into a peal of laughter when Chanyeol's reply comes in. _get dressed,_ Chanyeol says. _be there in 10 minutes :D_

_svaiorrr i'll bring an extra beanie 4 u,_ Joonmyun says in reply.

_you know me well. :)_

 

McDonald's is quite the cozy place when it's this early. There's the occasional office worker passing by to grab take-out breakfast, a student taking the seat farthest from the entrance to get in some extra reading before an important exam. They take the table nearest to the counter, Chanyeol almost slamming his foot into the table when he arrives with their orders.

"So who exactly gave you the idea that I'd already be awake at 5 a.m.?"

Chanyeol just looks at him, one eyebrow raised and a corner of his mouth tugged up. He shakes his head, swooping down to get a whiff of his coffee, then resurfaces, cheeks now colored with life. "I would've woken you up if you weren't already, anyway," he replies, then scoots closer until their shoulders bump.

"I ran into Kris yesterday."

"Oh yeah?" Chanyeol reaches for the coffee condiments, deciding between Splenda and brown sugar. "Like, you ran your car into him? Because I wouldn't want you to sully your Audi."

" _Chanyeol._ "

Chanyeol laughs a little and nudges Joonmyun in his side. "I was just saying. Didn't you think he was an ass before? Ass man, wasn't that your codename for Kris a few years back? Didn't he manip your face onto the Edvard Munch painting?"

"I didn't run my car into him," Joonmyun comments after a while, moving closer so he can rest his head on Chanyeol's shoulder. "Too much effort." His coffee's still too hot, and it's too early for iced coffee, and A Twosome Place isn't open yet and there's no other coffee shop in Busan that has gotten his preferred coffee temperature right, so he settles for the warmth of Chanyeol's arms and Chanyeol's light laughter reverberating in his ears. "Hey, you can go ahead and eat. I'm just waiting for—"

"Your coffee to be more tongue-friendly." Chanyeol chuckles. Joonmyun can hear the light rustling of paper — Chanyeol's probably sneaking in Splenda, swapping it with brown sugar just to prove, for the nth time, that Americano tastes infinitely better with artificial sweetener than _too-sweet brown sugar._ "I should've come at 8, then. Then we could have—"

"You missed me?" Joonmyun looks up and cranes his neck a bit, until his nose bumps into Chanyeol's jaw. "Come on, we've been texting everyday. Am I really the only one who keeps you busy?"

"Well, there _is_ this person…" Chanyeol peeks at him from the corner of his eye, then pinches Joonmyun in his side. "Nah, I already have my hands full with you as it is."

Breakfast dissolves into playtime, with Chanyeol ruffling Joonmyun's hair and Joonmyun pounding his fists on Chanyeol's chest. When they pull apart, they're a heap of laughter, Joonmyun with beads of tears at the corners of his eyes and Chanyeol's breathing heavy and ragged, choked between small bouts of laughter. "Fine, I have to admit — you _running into Kris_ breathed life into you again."

" _I_ breathed life into myself again." Joonmyun snorts. "Me, me, me. No Kris. Just me."

Chanyeol sticks out his tongue, but quickly withdraws it even before Joonmyun can hit him on the arm. "It doesn't have to be about you all the time, you know," Chanyeol says after a while, midway through sipping his now-warm coffee. "Kris helped you; at least give him credit for that. Let people help you."

"You're the only one who's allowed to help me."

Chanyeol lays his coffee down on the table and shifts in his seat so that he's facing Joonmyun. He doesn't say anything, just stares, eyes traveling from Joonmyun's own to the tip of his nose, then to his lips, then back up just in time for a smile to light the corners of Chanyeol's mouth. "Am I, really?" Chanyeol asks, then hooks an arm around Joonmyun's shoulder, pulling him close so he can bury his face in Joonmyun's hair.

"Of course," Joonmyun says, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "You're the only one."

 

 

"You are not writing the same shit about Kris Wu again."

Joonmyun exhales loudly, blowing at his soup harder than expected. The tiny, practiced smile on Chanyeol's lips remain, steady as ever even as Chanyeol leans forward to reach for the chili flakes near Joonmyun's hand. Joonmyun had brought up the prospect of writing about an extension of Jungmo and Woobin's love story just a few minutes ago, saying that there are still unexplored parts of their relationship that some readers expressed interest in reading, but Chanyeol shot him down even before he could expound and say that Minjung will prove to be a great distraction and maybe, just maybe snatch Woobin away from Jungmo.

"It was worth a shot."

"I'll shoot you through the head if you so much as think of reusing your plots," Chanyeol replies through a mouthful of noodles. "I won't let you halfass your next novel. I _won't._ "

Joonmyun goes through a series of plots he'd once developed in his mind — an elaborate story on how Jongdae managed to end up with the head cheerleader despite being the biggest, greatest dork he's ever known, how Jongin was _finally_ able to catch Soojung's attention without having to make a fool of himself. At the bottom of the pile of plots, he'd written something on Chanyeol, how he'd managed to stay happy and contented with himself despite not having a hand to hold (save for Jongdae's or Kyungsoo's during horror movie marathons).

"It doesn't always have to be about me—"

"Exactly. That's what I've been telling you these past few days." Chanyeol adds some soy sauce to Joonmyun's porridge and mixes it, frowning a little when wisps of heat escape the crevices. "Maybe you can take a stab at erotica— Oh hey, Joonmyun, you have some experience in that, right? That's a good jump-off point."

Kris' big, warm hands on his skin, sliding down the slope of his back. Baekhyun's pink lips around his— "Happy endings. I'll write about happy endings."

Chanyeol chuckles. Joonmyun adds some chili to his porridge but is immediately stopped by Chanyeol; he tosses it in Chanyeol's soup, instead. "Well, someone's determined."

"There's a deadline to be met."

"Always the good kid, following deadlines and all, huh?"

Joonmyun looks up at Chanyeol, a smug smile stretching across his lips. He winks as a preamble and, once Chanyeol starts chuckling, promises, "I'll make you proud."

 

 

"Now, there's a familiar face!"

Chanyeol's grin tugs too hard at the corner of his lips that Joonmyun fears Chanyeol might break anytime. "Good evening, umma," comes Chanyeol's greeting, voice considerably fainter than it had been merely minutes ago on the car ride home. He crouches, meeting Joonmyun's mother at eye level, and takes her in his arms, squeezing just enough to earn a chuckle from her. "Sometimes I wonder how you still love me even if I take Joonmyun away from you all the time."

"You're the only good friend he has," she says when they part. There's still a bit of laughter bubbling on her lips. "Well, you and Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo's another Joonmyun in the making. The poor kid can't be dragged out of his house!"

"Or his office, for that matter." Chanyeol frowns and shrugs — exaggerated, enough to make Joonmyun roll his eyes and usher them further inside the house. "We should take you out sometime, umma. Kyungsoo makes great kimbap!"

She grins then reaches up to ruffle Chanyeol's hair, and Chanyeol doesn't even bother to hold back his laughter.

This scene isn't foreign to Joonmyun — he's seen this happen right before he locks himself up in his house for every book he's written, has seen this happen everytime he has a screw up, big or small. Chanyeol almost always has the answers to every single problem — Chanyeol, how do I work around this scene? How do make mug cupcakes? Umma's been raving about those. _Chanyeol, how do I fix my life and stop running away from everything good that's happening to me?_ Chanyeol's solutions always start with a light press of a warm hand on the small of Joonmyun's back and the words, "Relax. Everything will be alright." The big, warm hug follows.

"So my Joonmyunie's writing something again, huh? What is it about this time? Is he dating someone? Who's the lucky girl?"

Joonmyun chuckles. "You're the only woman in my life, umma."

She stops and stares for a while. Carefully, she parts her lips and asks, "Who's the lucky guy, then?"

There's a thick blanket of silence for a while, until Chanyeol claps his hands and says, beaming brightly, "Who wants some mug cupcakes?" Joonmyun raises his hand, quick to get to his feet, and he bows in his mother's direction before heading to the kitchen, Chanyeol trailing him, a bounce in the sound of his footsteps.

 

 

"So, she knows."

Joonmyun keeps his eyes on the mildly crushed Graham crackers, pounding the slightly bigger pieces. Chanyeol reaches for the pestle, wrestling with Joonmyun briefly until Joonmyun yields reign over the tool and leans against the table. "Yes, she does," Joonmyun says after a while; he's busying himself with the chocolate bars now, trying to break down the pieces. "Probably has known for quite a while already."

"How?"

"I do weird things sometimes, you know?" Joonmyun reaches for another pestle nearby and starts pounding on the chocolate blocks. "I may have brought Kris here before I started working on the second book, might have done that to see if he'll be convinced to leave when he meets my crazy mother. Or maybe Baekhyun — I can't remember half of the things we did, but I know I was so high then, I could have fucked him on the table with my mom watching."

Chanyeol shifts so that he's facing Joonmyun, the mortar now in one hand, the free one reaching for more Graham crackers. "Grow up, Joonmyun. You're acting like a kid." Chanyeol chuckles, shakes his head, tears his gaze from Joonmyun for the first time. Some crumbs catch on the tips of his fingers, and Joonmyun watches as Chanyeol dusts them off. "You can't just push people away and rip them apart just so you can see how they put themselves together again."

"It's not exactly a choice I have." Joonmyun looks up, meets Chanyeol's eyes with a small smile. He takes a tiny block of chocolate, pokes Chanyeol's lips lightly with the tip until Chanyeol gives in, parting his lips just slightly. "I like it when things get ugly. Makes me feel like I can do anything and everything to make things right," he continues, gently pushing the chocolate between Chanyeol's lips. His breath hitches when Chanyeol catches him by the thumb, his trapped finger coming off with a light 'pop' as Chanyeol takes a step back. "Maybe I should've been a mechanic. I love fixing things."

"You love setting yourself up for disappointment," Chanyeol replies, words muffled as the chocolate sticks to his tongue. "Why don't you go fix yourself first before you try kissing people's wounds better, huh?"

There's something about the honesty in Chanyeol's words that makes Joonmyun stop — really stop and put down the mortar and pestle — and stare, lean back so he can get a better view of Chanyeol. "I have you; I don't need saving," he comments, then picks up his tools, picks up from where he has left off.

He can feel the weight of Chanyeol's stare slowly being lifted as Chanyeol moves closer, bumps his hip, and bursts into a peal of laughter. "Sure you don't," Chanyeol retorts, tone stickier than the chocolate flaunted on the corner of his lips. Joonmyun reaches up and wipes it off with his thumb, then sucks on his finger to clear his thumb up. "I'm your Superman; you don't need anyone else."

 

 

Two mug cupcakes and a sugar crash after, he texts Kyungsoo, _I'm going to write about Chanyeol._

He shifts in his position, slides his arm across Chanyeol's back and gently rests Chanyeol's head on his shoulder. The early stages of Chanyeol's slumber are always tricky — he moves around too much without an arm holding him down and keeping him in place. Awake, Chanyeol can be cuddly and receptive to touch, but asleep he's distant, flinching at the slightest touch, taking too long to warm up to contact.

_what,_ is Kyungsoo's initial reply. A few seconds after, _you know he'll kill you if he finds out right?_

_he's asleep right now. my chance to attack nyahahaha!_ Chanyeol stirs for a while, half-nuzzling Joonmyun's shoulder and half-pushing him away. He rubs circles on Chanyeol's arm, each stroke slow, bigger than the previous. Only when Chanyeol moves closer, when Joonmyun begins to feel Chanyeol's hot breath on his skin does he let his guard down and turn his attention back to his phone. _i've never written about him ever, anyway. he can't stop me from using him as the main._

_yea he'll just hate you. you think you can bear that?_

Joonmyun chuckles, memories of senior year in university coming back to him all too easily — days spent with Kyungsoo and Chanyeol hunched over readings and laptops and Chanyeol making it clear that _I will punch anyone who writes about me, you two hear that? Anyone!_ "He'll probably just punch me in the face," Joonmyun says out of the blue, and bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

There's a cool pool of drool on Joonmyun's shoulders. Chanyeol moves closer, nuzzling the wet area, and grumbles but keeps his eyes closed, nonetheless. Joonmyun leans in and plants a soft kiss on Chanyeol's forehead before turning his attention back to his phone, tapping lightly on the home key for a while before sending Kyungsoo a message.

_i can take the punches c:_ he says, then lays his phone face down beside him, buries his fingers in the tuft of Chanyeol's hair as Chanyeol's snores grow louder.

 

 

Joonmyun still remembers Chanyeol's golden rules of writing — the original set of rules, not the one that he's been amending year on year, everytime Kyungsoo threatens to include him in the new volume of _Come, Let's Love_. In no particular order: never write the exact real-life experience because it will haunt you for eternity; base characters on real people, but twist their personalities a bit; and, finally, never ever write about Park Chanyeol.

"I swear, he's going to kill you," Kyungsoo comments through a slice of kimbap. He steals a bunch of kimchi and drops it on his plate, but quickly replaces them with yellow radish, grinning at Joonmyun as he does so. "Or he'll ask me to kill you because he's way too nice to do it himself."

Joonmyun shrugs. He takes a piece of the yellow radish and chews on the tip tentatively. "He told me to think outside of the box and try something new," he begins, pausing to take a bite before continuing, "I'm writing about him having a happy ending — that's shooting two birds with one stone."

"You're shooting Park _and_ Chanyeol with Kim Suho's writing." Kyungsoo turns to him, lips pressed thinly together as he leans closer. Joonmyun wants to claw at the silence hanging between them — too much of it has him leaning closer, searching Kyungsoo's eyes for answers Kyungsoo would rather not lay down out in the open — but he simply eyes the tip of Kyungsoo's chopsticks, the slice of radish lodged between them, the path it takes until it reaches Joonmyun's lips. "You better slay him with your words before he can sense something's wrong."

"That's impossible; Chanyeol knows my characters _and_ my writing inside-out. He's bound to find out as soon as I give him the first draft."

"Then," Kyungsoo says, smiling as he chews his food slowly. "Make him fall in love with your writing so much that he'll keep his mouth shut about you using him as the main character.

Write him, Joonmyun. Write about him and do it well."


	2. Chapter 2

As with all of his novels, he starts writing in Chanyeol's office.

There's nothing like the looming presence of your editor driving you to churn out words faster than you can say 'hello'. Chanyeol knows the code of conduct by heart — leave Joonmyun in a corner, the one nearest to the free socket, and have a cup of coffee within reach. Don't pay attention to Joonmyun's little noises of protest as he throws his hands up in the air and regrets it soon after when the laptop precariously placed on his lap almost falls, but do keep him from tearing his hair out. Never look over his shoulder or take a peek at whatever he's writing until he bolts from his seat with a bright grin. Cheesecake is mandatory during post-writing meals.

Piano Cafe is Joonmyun's favorite place after powering through the first few pages of anything he writes. Years of regularly visiting the cafe has Joonmyun walking to the seats nearest to the bears lined up on the counter thoughtlessly, plopping on the chair and sinking in it after Chanyeol ducks just before he hits the tree. "Isn't it a bit too early to be worn out?" Chanyeol asks, a glint in his eyes and the upward tug of his lips. Joonmyun simply waves him off, head thrown back as he counts the leaves one by one.

One leaf falls off, catching on Chanyeol's nose before falling to the ground completely.

Chanyeol's fits of laughter, Joonmyun notes, rarely ever starts with light chuckling. He always erupts into a thunderous roar of laughter, loud and rich and full, like laughing his heart out is the best thing since sliced bread. His eyes would widen and he'd arch his eyebrows and he'd be bobbing his head, and he'd wrap his arms around himself as he curled up in an attempt to pacify himself. Sometimes, his eyes would disappear into slits and he'd slap the arm of the person nearest to him. Chanyeol, despite his size, isn't loaded with power, but without the chains of control holding him down he can leave a nasty bruise on Joonmyun's arm from hitting too hard.

"Oh God, that felt good," Chanyeol says, still breathy from laughing. He wipes the beads of tears forming at the corners of his eyes, surfaces with an easy smile that rubs off of Joonmyun all too quickly. "That really felt good. Thank you, fallen leaf."

"The fallen leaf says you're welcome," Joonmyun replies. He sits up, straightening himself, clenches and unclenches his fists. "I can recognize you now. You look a lot like Chanyeol again."

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow then furrows them, leaning in for a moment before leaning back into his seat. "You really won't let that topic go, will you?" Chanyeol asks, a hint of amusement in the way he chuckles. "Oh well. I have to tell someone eventually, anyway. They… might move me to a new department."

Joonmyun cocks his head slowly and leans forward, propping his chin on his clasped hands. "You're moving. To a new department," he repeats, slower this time, and Chanyeol nods at an equally slow pace as if easing himself into the news he's dropped himself. "When did you find out? Why?"

"The Cerulean Department has hit an all time low with sales, so they want me to straighten things out there." Chanyeol scratches the back of his head. He pauses to look up at the waitress who has just approached them, their staple orders in tow. Chanyeol takes the entire tray from her and lets slip a small sound of gratitude before setting their coffee cups on their respective sides of the table.

Joonmyun's eyes are still fixed on Chanyeol's own.

"Wednesday last week." Chanyeol removes the cover of his frappuccino, mixing the whipped cream with the rest of the drink using his straw. It takes every ounce of control to keep Joonmyun from reaching out and laying Chanyeol's hands flat on the table, to make Chanyeol look at him and nothing else. "I was going to tell you, but then things aren't… final yet. The paperwork's still being done."

Joonmyun moves his hands from the table to his lap. "When?"

"Soon. As soon as your book is done." Chanyeol looks up, a small smile on his lips. "But they have to onboard me with timelines and magazine things so I won't be completely yours anymore as early as, I don't know. A few days from now?"

Joonmyun snorts. There's the same dopey smile on Chanyeol's lips, the one that tugs too hard at the corners of his very own lips when he hates it the most. He doesn't fight it. "Since when have you ever been mine, mhmm?" he asks, and Chanyeol chuckles, lips poised in a small 'o'.

"Ever since, Kim Joonmyun." Chanyeol steals Joonmyun's Americano and pops two packets of Splenda in it. "Ever since."

 

 

"Chanyeol told me to check on you. He says your coffee drinking has been getting worse."

Joonmyun chuckles and tucks his phone between his shoulder and his cheek so he can move around. Tonight's set up looks a lot like this: work desk void of crumpled pieces of paper, a bottle of whiskey conveniently placed to his right, an empty glass nearby. His desk lamp is set to dim but only to keep him awake throughout the night; if he puts off writing the opening, he'll fall behind schedule and risk not meeting the deadline Chanyeol has set. The timings are almost always manageable, but when he's already gone through several plot revisions, there's no way but to fast track the writing process.

"I'm drinking whiskey in a while, if that makes things better." Joonmyun settles down on his chair and wheels himself to the edge of the bed, reaching for the remote. Television sound becomes a distraction at this time of the night, when there's nothing else that should be done but to write. He flexes his fingers, pulls up a playlist of relaxing songs. _Something Corporate_ is almost always his jam when going on a writing binge. "Besides, I've been drinking two cups max everyday; how can that be alarming?"

"Everything about you worries him." Kyungsoo chuckles. His voice gets caught in the static, and Joonmyun coughs in thoughtless response. "The worst habit he's ever gotten from you, to be honest."

Joonmyun scoffs and props his foot under his leg. "Don't blame me if he thinks about me half the time."

"Oh I will, Kim Joonmyun. I definitely will."

There's silence for a while. Kyungsoo treasures minutes, little things, like he does each granule of sugar that he loses to a battle of tug-of-war with a sugar packet, and while he holds silence dear he knows when it is appropriate and when it isn't — when Kyungsoo's voice drifts off, dropping to a whisper in the middle of a revelation, when Joonmyun lets slip a _hey_ and waits, really waits, for Kyungsoo to open up and yield, to step out of the shell he retreats to at the first sign of fear. When they talk about Chanyeol in a language so cryptic, Joonmyun sometimes wonders why they're hiding anything at all.

"So, any progress on the novel?"

"A little," Joonmyun replies. He uncaps the bottle of whiskey and fills a quarter of the glass. "He said he's moving to a new department soon. Possibly. Something to do with having to fix the department and increase magazine sales."

Joonmyun laughs a little. "He's wanted this for the longest time," he continues, a lilt curling at the end of his sentence as he goes on to say, "It's like watching your kid graduate or something. Is this how parents feel? I should have—"

"You should write." Joonmyun hears the faintest laughter trickling from the corners of Kyungsoo's lips. "Go, start writing. Chanyeol will kill me for keeping you from your work."

"Can't even hurt a fly."

Kyungsoo scoffs, but gets cut halfway through it when the sound gets muffled; Kyungsoo has a habit of rolling on his bed in the middle of a phone call, after all.

"Oh wait, call waiting—"

 _Good night_ is Kyungsoo's final statement before hanging up, and Joonmyun sits up in his seat, prepared to take another call. "Hey," is what he receives as a greeting, a warm blanket that envelops him in the dead of the night.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"You called."

"Shouldn't you—" Chanyeol grumbles. Joonmyun almost cackles in response. "Are you writing?"

"About to. I'm all set and raring to write! There's just one thing—"

Chanyeol's laughter comes out low, steady. "You're not in my office."

"You're not here," Joonmyun cuts. He worries his bottom lip and leans forward, resting his chin near the trackpad of his laptop. "Not that I won't ever be able to write without you around."

In the beginning, Joonmyun had been more needy than ever. Half of the second novel had been written in Chanyeol's office; the other half, he'd written in Chanyeol's bedroom, thighs just a few centimeters away from his chest as he typed on the precariously placed laptop on his knees. Chanyeol was beside him, eyes fixed on anything but Joonmyun and his laptop screen, but occasionally he'd run a hand through Joonmyun's hair, rest his hand on the base of Joonmyun's nape until Joonmyun shifted in his position. He'd rub slow circles on Joonmyun's arm as if coaxing him — _go on, go on. There's nothing stopping you. You can do it; I just know you can. I'll be here for you._ Then Joonmyun would shoot Chanyeol a stern glance, almost growl in an attempt to make Chanyeol lift the only source of warmth in a cold room from Joonmyun's skin.

Chanyeol stayed, anyway, wavered only when a blanket of exhaustion enveloped him. He'd be curled up next to Joonmyun, head almost touching Joonmyun's sitting bones.

Joonmyun would reach for a tuft of Chanyeol's hair, caress it briefly, then let go.

In the morning, he'd attempt to make breakfast for Chanyeol, but Chanyeol would always beat him to it, always five, ten, fifteen steps ahead. "Pancakes," Chanyeol would say as he laid the pieces down on Joonmyun's plate. The edges were burnt; Joonmyun's lips tugged up in thoughtless response. "Slept well?"

"You hogged the space," Joonmyun would retort. He'd reach out to rest a hand on Chanyeol's own, anyway, squeezing Chanyeol's hand briefly before saying, "Not that I can do anything about that. It's _your bed_ , after all."

"I told you, I love cuddles. You can use me as you bolster."

"Too big." Joonmyun took a tiny piece of pancake and flicked it in Chanyeol's direction. "Pancake attack!"

"Shit."

Somehow, that's always how things end up — Joonmyun luring people into a trap, only to let go of the ropes and let people fall into a deep hole. Chanyeol has stepped into the same trap too many times to count, has fallen hard, but has always managed to get himself back in the game. There must be a spring there somewhere, a trick, or any form of magic. Chanyeol can't fall for the same thing too many times and manage to emerge from the chaos unscathed.

"You have the keys to my office, right? You can stay there tonight, if you want," Chanyeol asks now. 

Joonmyun drums his fingers on his table, caught between saying _I should've just spent the night in your place_ and _but it won't be the same._ "Yeah, I do," he says, instead, standing from his seat to stretch.

"I'll see you in the afternoon. I have—"

"Onboarding in the morning. You told me earlier."

Chanyeol chuckles. "Never knew you paid attention."

 _I do, I always do,_ Joonmyun almost says, but goes with, "Good night, Park."

Another blanket of silence. Chanyeol exhales loudly on the other end of the line. "Good night, Kim."

 

 

Joonmyun wakes up with keyboard marks on his cheeks at seven in the morning.

His phone buzzes beside him lightly, the display blinking. It takes him a couple of seconds to register that his phone's telling him _something_ , ten to realize that he's supposed to be answering the call. "Hello?" he says into the receiver, trying hard to swallow his lethargy.

"Good morning, gorgeous."

 _Chanyeol._ "Hey, handsome." Joonmyun coughs a little and gets back on his feet, but keeps his grip on his chair firm as he stands up. "How long have you been up?"

"An hour. I'm leaving in a few minutes, actually." The sound of crunching and gulping — Chanyeol hasn't roused too long ago, probably only twenty minutes ago at best. "Dammit, I hate cereals. Why do I keep eating these things?"

Joonmyun laughs a little. He's made his way to his kitchen now, and he opens the cupboard, reaching for the box of cereals. "Because you only cook when I'm there? See, I should really move in with you already. It'll be for the best."

"Whoa, Kim, it's too early for a wedding proposal." Chanyeol chokes on his cereal. A string of curses slips from his lips, and Joonmyun just shakes his head as he pours a generous amount of milk into his bowl. "Where's the ring?"

"There _is_ no ring. Just an opening paragraph." Joonmyun worries his bottom lip. "I'm slowly getting there. I'll probably get 10% done by the end of the week.."

Chanyeol clears his throat. "Ah— Okay. Good."

One thing that has set Chanyeol apart from most of Joonmyun's friends is the fact that he rarely ever pushes topics that Joonmyun so blatantly tries to avoid. Jongin loves gossip the most, but it's Jongdae who actively seeks out new information — on people, their lives, what makes them tick and what irks them out. Once, Jongdae had tried to weasel information about Baekhyun from Joonmyun, and Joonmyun had only responded with, "Maybe he's not real. Maybe I just made him up." Chanyeol salvaged the conversation by clasping a hand on Joonmyun's shoulder and turning to Jongdae to add, "He's crazy," even cocking his head in Joonmyun's direction.

The only time Chanyeol ever prodded was when he spotted Joonmyun smoking in the rooftop of their Arts and Letters building. "Don't fuck around with me now, you can't do this alone," he'd said, then snatched the stick from Joonmyun to take a long drag.

"You smoke? Since when?"

"Just now." Chanyeol coughed. "And since when have you hidden things from me?"

"Since my father died."

Chanyeol dropped the cigarette to the ground, put it out, and took Joonmyun in his arms.

"Hey, don't make a mess in my office, okay? I won't clean up after you this time," Chanyeol teases. "And if you promise to get 20% done by the end of the week, I'll take you out for dinner."

"What are you trying to imply? That you can buy me with food?"

Chanyeol chuckles. "I don't need to do that, but I do need your draft ASAP."

Joonmyun takes a mouthful of cereal, takes his time to chew his food, but a sliver of laughter escapes from his lips. "Got it, slavedriver."

 

 

The trip to Chanyeol's office doesn't usually take more than fifteen minutes, but it does take Joonmyun more than ten to decide on which coffee to get for today's writing session. Chanyeol almost always makes deciding easier for him — sweet coffee during the first few stages of the writing process, classic Americano for when he has to flesh out specific plot points that are quintessential to a better novel. Frappes are only for celebrations, so that's out of the question.

Joonmyun grabs an Americano and asks for the barista to add in 2 packs of Splenda, then walks to the office as fast as he can.

Joonmyun is no stranger to the Saffron Department; he's been here too many times, has even spent sleepless nights here, but in the morning everyone looks different, like they could use a splash of color. When he walks alongside Chanyeol during mornings, Chanyeol makes it a point to rest a hand on the shoulders of anyone who passes by him, makes it a point to offer a smile, albeit a small one, to whoever catches his eye. Today, Joonmyun's subject is a girl at the far end of the aisle.

She stops tapping her foot when Joonmyun walks up to the door to Chanyeol's office, key in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Chanyeol won't be around until the afternoon," he says, and the girl only lets loose a faint _ah_ in response. She bows to him and turns on her heel even before he can say anything. On the pad of paper beside Chanyeol's glass coaster, he writes, _Timid girl visited. She's kinda cute. You should take her out on a date._

He locks his arms behind his back before taking his spot in the office. He taps the 'enter' key lightly a few times before regaining his rhythm, his fingers skating across the keyboard.

Shim Jaesuk is a marketing manager in a prestigious multi-national company. He's been through three jobs, all with a good friend of his — Lee Hyerin — and only in this company has he ever felt a sense of purpose, like he's actually being groomed to become _someone_ , not something. Three years into being with the company, he's given the opportunity to step up and step into a new role, but not without a few hiccups.

 _predictable :c_ Kyungsoo says over text. _man chanyeol's gonna be so disappointed in you. change things up a little. go lala happy stuff then give your main a big headache, then have him find happiness again._

 _sorry, soo. not my style._ Joonmyun lays his phone face flat on the desk before resuming his writing, ignoring the beeps sounding off in succession.

In a story with predictable plot, the best way to differentiate yourself from the rest is by having memorable characters — personas — someone real people can relate to. Shim Jaesuk is hardworking, always willing to go the extra mile to get things done, but he's not perfect — give him too much work and he'll start complaining. His habit of not unloading his stresses on other people will start to consume him from the inside, and it will begin to show in the small things — reporting to work later than the usual, conversations with friends being kept to a bare minimum for fear of causing other people misery and grief. A drop in productivity. And then, his first major blunder at work.

"I can't believe I wasn't able to send the email to Sehun."

Chanyeol removes his coat and throws it haphazardly on the chair nearby. His hair's sticking up in several different directions, and Joonmyun quickly sets his laptop aside, reaching up to smoothen out Chanyeol's hair. "I've been too caught up with all these transition stuff that I wasn't able to send the goddamned email with Sunyoung's draft."

Joonmyun walks to Chanyeol's desk, situating himself behind Chanyeol's chair. "She's already done? I'm surprised."

"Turned in her draft two weeks ago." Chanyeol sinks in his seat and throws his head back. "I only got to read the whole thing and do the edits last night."

From where Joonmyun is, Chanyeol looks so small. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced than ever, and even with Chanyeol's glasses on Joonmyun can make out the crinkles in the corners of Chanyeol's eyes. He removes Chanyeol's glasses then cups Chanyeol's face. He rubs slow circles on Chanyeol's temples until Chanyeol lets out a shaky exhale.

"I needed another pair of eyes to check the draft, so I sought Sehun's help. Thought it would be a good training for him. But no, I just _had_ to forget to click that stupid send button—"

"Chanyeol."

"—and now Sunyoung's going to be a week behind schedule because there are some major changes to be made. And she'll hate me for that. _I'll_ hate me for that—"

"Chanyeol."

"If I could just get my shit together—"

"Chanyeollie."

Chanyeol opens his eyes. There's a small, slow-forming smile on his lips as he reaches up and pinches Joonmyun's cheeks before pulling him down, and Joonmyun just chuckles, laughs all the more when Chanyeol squeezes even harder. "I thought you'd never stop," Joonmyun whispers, and a grin lights the corners of Chanyeol's mouth, making his lips quirk up.

He'd pulled the same stunt a few years back, when Chanyeol almost sent the second draft and not the final version to the printer while running on only two hours of sleep. Joonmyun, high on adrenalin and three cans of too-sweet coffee, reached forward, quickly snatching the mouse from Chanyeol's grasp and gave Chanyeol's cheeks a light slap. "I just saved your life," he'd said when Chanyeol shot him a weird look — affronted — a flush of red flaunted on Chanyeol's left cheek.

"One more time, Joonmyun, please," Chanyeol says now, eyes fixed on Joonmyun's own. He takes Joonmyun's hands, laces their fingers together. "I sound like a fucking kid, but please—"

"Chanyeollie," Joonmyun begins. The furrow of Chanyeol's eyebrows slowly eases, and Joonmyun doesn't even bother to fight the easy smile surfacing on his lips. "Relax. Everything will be alright. You still have a few hours to get things done properly."

"Sunyoung will kill me, though."

"Ah, well." Joonmyun scratches the back of his neck; Chanyeol still hasn't let go of his other hand. "That's inevitable."

Chanyeol goes straight for the gold, erupting in a peal of laughter. Joonmyun shivers, shakes a little, the vibrations of Chanyeol's laughter tingling his skin. A familiar warmth surges to the tips of Chanyeol's fingers, then Joonmyun's own, and Joonmyun gulps hard as he feels his stomach lurching, each turn in harmony with the highs and lows of Chanyeol's laughter.

 

 

Six hours in and he's more or less written 10% of the actual material and outlined the story up until the part after the climax. Chanyeol has somehow convinced him earlier to create a strict outline to follow, looking over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow at him everytime Joonmyun looks up at him with a grin on his lips. "You always get carried away with your words," Joonmyun remembers Chanyeol saying, and he had just shrugged and nodded, began typing the specific plot points he could see his character flourishing in.

"One more hour and I'm closing the office," Chanyeol announces. He chucks the sheet of paper he'd balled up earlier at Joonmyun and Joonmyun eludes, but only by a width of a hair. "How's the draft coming along?"

"You don't get to ask me that when you peek at my work-in-progress everytime I head to the bathroom," Joonmyun says, grumbling. He throws the paper back at Chanyeol and grins when he hits Chanyeol square on the nose. "And that's for being completely unfair. You're treating me to dinner."

"You don't have proof of me _peeking at your work-in-progress_ whenever you take a dump." Chanyeol grins at him. "And hey, don't I always pay for dinner?"

Joonmyun flashes a v-sign, eyes still fixed on the screen, his free hand controlling the mouse. "That's because I'm your designated driver. Mutualism makes the world go 'round."

"Doesn't count as mutualism when you cause me more grief than happiness." Chanyeol plops down beside him, feet propped under his legs. "I say parasitism."

Chanyeol isn't the best wordsmith, but he knows his language inside out, has an relationship with it intimate enough for him know when to say the right things at the right time. There are times, though, when words fail him, and even with years upon years of knowing Joonmyun, there are still some things he cannot express in words. Body language becomes the medium of communication — a gentle pat on the shoulder, light brushing of his arms against Joonmyun's. A squeeze of the thigh and a small smile and a loud, dissatisfied exhale. Entering the three-foot parameter of Joonmyun's area of responsibility during writing hours means Chanyeol's seeking attention; rocking his feet back and forth means he's listless and that he has a problem, but sitting on his feet means he just needs someone to _be there_ for him. Joonmyun saves his document and snaps the laptop shut. He hugs his laptop close to his chest — this means, _you have all of me; make full use of this opportunity._

"So maybe I need you more than I'll ever admit," Joonmyun confesses just to get the ball rolling.

Light laughter slips from Chanyeol's lips, and Joonmyun smiles when he sees Chanyeol's shoulders drop, the rest of his body falling into a more relaxed state. They've long dropped formalities, broken down walls, but there's still this thin veil shielding the rest of Chanyeol from Joonmyun's view — Chanyeol flinching at contact from time to time, or the shaky snaking of the hand up Joonmyun's back, cold fingers resting on Joonmyun's arm. The first sign of Chanyeol admitting defeat is always the easy smile on his lips; the second, the droop of his body.

"I should change your name in my contacts. _Parasitemyun_ — that sounds pretty catchy."

"Hostyeol, then?"

Chanyeol cackles, but the smile on his lips falters. "Maybe I'm not yet ready for this."

Joonmyun places his laptop down on the small table in front of him and faces Chanyeol. "You are; you just haven't realized it yet," he begins, resting his hands on Chanyeol's knees. Chanyeol's rolling his eyes. The countdown to recovery starts now.

"I'm scared."

"Sure, you are." Joonmyun pinches Chanyeol's thigh, and Chanyeol scowls in response. "You'll lose me, and we both know I'm one of the best things that has happened to you."

A grin breaks across Chanyeol's features, easy on the corners, reaching his eyes. Chanyeol ruffles Joonmyun's hair. Joonmyun just lets him.

"Of course. It will always be about you."

 

 

He sees less of Chanyeol and his office and more of coffee shops and college students in the succeeding days. It helps a little, the change in atmosphere — fresh overheard conversations always lend well to more realistic dialogues. _Perhaps Kim Suho's strongest point in writing is his dialogue_ — Joonmyun still remembers that article, one of the first few reviews of the second book. _It's fluid and doesn't sound stilted. You can practically hear the characters saying their lines._ And then the writer hinted at Kim Suho having to work on his imagery, that killer dialogue can only go so far, even when his characters are so memorable.

Joonmyun laughs a little and stares at the last section he's written — Jaesuk has finally come around and severed ties with his ex-girlfriend who he had still been hung up on two years after the break up. "Nothing ever comes easy," has become Jaesuk's staple line in the story, and Joonmyun might as well make it the story's handle. Chanyeol _is_ the type of person to believe in working hard for something he truly wants, after all.

 _"Time to celebrate, huh?_ he types as Hyerin's line. He adds a few more sentences to describe Jaesuk's amusement and the way he teases Hyerin about being more relieved than he is, that girls are really weird sometimes, that, _"Sometimes, I wonder if you'll ever find a man for you if you keep worrying about me and not yourself."_

His gaze shifts to the clock at the corner of his screen, and he looks up from what he's doing, pushes himself away from the desk, and snorts.

Hongdae isn't normally as glum as this — darkness all around, with only the light from lamp posts illuminating the pathways, university students dragging their drunken asses across streets, some even puking in the sidewalk. It has seen better days, back when Joonmyun and Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were still lining up in bars, moving from one establishment to the another just to make full use of their wristband passes for Club Day. Then there was Kyungsoo dragging them to see various musicians during Sound Day. Then there was Chanyeol dragging them to the playground to see the tiny tents for the weekend flea markets.

He stuffs his laptop inside his bag and reaches for his phone from deep in his pocket. He lets his fingers move on instinct, typing, _going home now. 40% done with draft. you're gonna be proud of me._

 _oh, am i?_ Chanyeol's reply comes too fast; Joonmyun hasn't even finished stuffing the charger in his bag yet. _go home. it's getting late._

He slips his phone back in his pocket and leaves the coffee shop. He's parked just around the block.

The most he's heard from Chanyeol the past few days has been the standard morning greetings and the _take care's_ when Joonmyun announces his departure from the coffee shop that has served as his writing fort for the day. At least there's still time for that, he tells himself whenever he sees not a single notification flashing on his screen or when his phone stays too quiet for more than ten minutes. Working two jobs has never been easy. Chanyeol's sense of balance has become a thing of the past — he treads a tightrope now, and Joonmyun's left wondering if he should wait until Chanyeol falls so he can catch him, or if he should find a way to push Chanyeol off the edge. 

_you should be sleeping,_ Joonmyun replies once he's reached his car. He places the laptop bag under the passenger seat and turns up the radio — a Mraz song is playing; Chanyeol would have grinned as soon as he heard the intro.

 _as should you. don't worry about me :)_ Joonmyun starts the ignition and another message comes in. _get some rest as soon as you get home, big boy. i'm dropping by your place tomorrow, gonna cook good food for you._

 _no trainings or turnovers tomorrow?_ he types, then deletes, then types the message again. He adds, _i mean it's good but i'm surprised?_

_lol so am i. hey text me when you get home, okay?_

_i'll rest only if you promise to go to bed in ten minutes. i mean it, chanyeol._

_watchu gonna do if i don't? ;)_

Joonmyun laughs a little. Jason Mraz is singing about little things going unnoticed. Chanyeol's posing both a question and a challenge and maybe he's testing Joonmyun again. Chanyeol does that all the time — smirks and raises an eyebrow and pushes Joonmyun to his limit, forcibly making him step outside his comfort zone. Joonmyun is almost always ready with a response, but on the off-chance that he doesn't, Chanyeol lets the points slide, calls it a draw.

He quickly types a reply and places his phone between his legs as soon as he's done.

_gonna go to your place to make sure you do ;)_

 

 

Chanyeol's already prepared two mugs of hot chocolate by the time Joonmyun arrives. "You just know I won't get work done at home with you around, don't you?" Chanyeol says, a small smile in the upward tug of the lip. He's abandoned his eyeglasses in favor of the nose pack lathered on his skin; this is Chanyeol's best attempt at taking a break.

Joonmyun violates standard beauty regimen rules and pokes Chanyeol's nose. Chanyeol grimaces at the touch, scowls when some of the fluid sticks to Joonmyun's skin. "So I get to have you for fifteen minutes, until your nose pack dries?"

"I applied this five minutes ago."

"You really don't like having me around." Then, after taking a sip of the drink, "How's the new job?"

"Manageable," is all that Chanyeol says. Joonmyun watches as Chanyeol's eyes droop, close briefly until he bolts and opens his eyes wide, tries his hardest to stay awake and get through one mug of hot chocolate. Joonmyun snatches the drink away in response, ushers Chanyeol to his room, mumbles, _gonna tuck you in bed even if you don't want me to._ Chanyeol, still pointing at his nose, makes a face, lips tugged down but eyes smiling at the corners.

Writing about Chanyeol has been quite an experience. He's been seeing things differently and more clearly now — the definitive lines on Chanyeol's forehead, the shallow dimples on Chanyeol's cheeks when he grins too wide, his long fingers and the calloused skin, his bruised knuckles. He's never gotten around to asking about the scars, but if it's something important, if anything hurts, Chanyeol knows he can always sit Joonmyun down for a drink or two and just talk about whatever is bothering him.

"Tell me about your day until my nose pack dries," Chanyeol says. He shifts in his position and props another pillow under his neck. The corners of his lips are tugged further up. His fingers are warm, wrapped around Joonmyun's wrist. "And thank you in advance for removing the pack from me."

"No way am I taking that off." Joonmyun half-grimaces, half chuckles. Chanyeol gives him half a punch on the arm. "I'll wake you up just before you fall asleep."

Chanyeol scrunches his nose, a small _ah, shit_ escaping his lips the dried part cracks too early. "You are the _worst_."

Joonmyun studies the way Chanyeol switches from a smile to a scowl then back again, the way Chanyeol looks up at him to meet him in the eye, then shifts his gaze to Joonmyun's nose, then Joonmyun's lips, the way Chanyeol lets out a loud exhale as Joonmyun runs his fingers through Chanyeol's hair, the way Chanyeol sinks into the touch, his eyes fluttering close in immediate response. These new pieces of information Joonmyun can save for another day, he muses, for when he has to write about Jaesuk and his soft smiles and gazes, Chanyeol's lingering touches, the brewing turmoil at the back of Hyerin's mind.

 

 

Three in the morning and he's still awake.

The muse knocked at half past one in the morning, just as he was preparing to call it a day and stay the night in Chanyeol's house. Chanyeol's snores filled the room, and Joonmyun just laughed when Chanyeol hit a peculiarly high snore-note. Then he heard a dialogue so clear in his head that, the next thing he knew, he was scrambling for a pen and some paper, scrawling characters on the pad and trying to catch up with his mind.

He taps the pen lightly on his knees and glances at Chanyeol who's got the blanket drawn up all the way to his neck. There's a small smile on his lips and there's movement beneath his eyelids — he must be dreaming. Chanyeol's one of those few people who still recalls the scenes he dreams of, gets to his feet as soon as he rouses from a good dream just to write it down and go back to it when he feels less of an adult with a thirst for life that matches that of a sixteen-year-old's. Then he shows the pages he's filled with dreams to Joonmyun, points at an item that he feels particularly fond of at the moment. Then he asks Joonmyun to write something about it.

 _Jaesuk still dreams of a future with Shinhye,_ Joonmyun writes. A sharp, loud snore from Chanyeol. Joonmun adds, _still dreams of sharing his dreams with Shinhye, and Shinhye won't mind his obnoxious snoring and those nights when he feels like sleeping at eight in the evening. Sometimes, he'd make up for it by staying up with her until two in the morning, doing nothing but laughing at the bad movie they're watching, cuddling in bed. Spending time together._

Joonmyun laughs to himself, at himself. He should stop making real life references in his novels, even if they make the stories he writes infinitely more believable. _It's not always about you,_ Chanyeol's voice rings in his ears. _Try something new._

He writes Hyerin in the scene, makes Hyerin drag Jaesuk out of his office at nine in the evening and tell him that he's much too young to be wasting his life away by working his ass off. Jaesuk indulges — Hyerin rarely ever asks for a favor, after all.

He scribbles a few more characters before capping his pen and tucking the pad under his pillow. Carefully, he slips beneath the blanket, and Chanyeol rolls to his side, bumping into Joonmyun.

"Yer here—" Chanyeol mumbles. The smile he was wearing earlier still hasn't left his lips.

Joonmyun leans his forehead on Chanyeol's chest, and Chanyeol falls right back to sleep even before he can finish circling his arms around Joonmyun's waist.

 

 

The first thing he says when he meets up with Kyungsoo is, "my hand fucking hurts."

"And this is why I encourage writing by hand from time to time," Kyungsoo replies. He excuses himself for a while to get a glass of water and returns with two glasses and a few packets of sugar on a tray. "Don't question my choices in life — I'm going through _something_ right now."

"So today, your job is to tell me everything and my job is to listen." He begins spreading butter on his pancakes. "Fire away."

"Your past just signed a contract with my company."

Joonmyun slowly places the fork and the knife down on the plate, and he shivers a little when the utensils slide off and hit the table. "But we're in the same company," Joonmyun replies, eyes still fixed on Kyungsoo's own. He watches as Kyungsoo nods twice, as Kyungsoo worries his bottom lip, as Kyungsoo takes a deep breath before parting his lips.

"We'll be sharing the same editor," Kyungsoo adds. He rubs the tip of his nose. "I've never had to share Lu Han with anyone. I mean, sure, he's weird and he makes my manhwa too sparkly for my own sanity from time to time, but he knows my style inside out. He's part of what makes _D.O._ 's manhwas unique. He's—" Kyungsoo scrunches his nose, runs his thumb along the ring of his mug and seethes when he presses too long that the heat reaches his skin. "He's not supposed to take in another artist. We had a deal. He made a promise."

 _Promises are meant to be broken,_ Joonmyun wants to say. "You don't need Lu Han to create the next best manhwa. Come on…"

Joonmyun reaches for Kyungsoo's hands across the table, and Kyungsoo moves his hands closer to help Joonmyun out. There's a scowl threatening to fall from Kyungsoo's lips, but Joonmyun knows very well that it will only take a light squeeze of the hand for Kyungsoo to choke that down. "Baekhyun is good, I know he is," Kyungsoo admits. "And I'm scared people will realize that he's better than me."

"Do you want me to distract him?" Joonmyun asks, grinning at Kyungsoo to punctuate his statement. Kyungsoo just sticks out his tongue in response.

The difference between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo is that Kyungsoo isn't as guarded as he seems. Hostility is his default response to something that doesn't sit well with him, but do something right and to his liking and he'll do you the favor of offering you a warm smile. There is no gray area with Kyungsoo, and whatever he says, he truly means. Every action he makes is a reflection of what he feels, so this — looking right into Joonmyun's eyes with the weight of the world tugging at his eyelids — can only mean _Don't be silly, Joonmyun. I won't let you come within a three-foot radius of your ex._

Chanyeol, meanwhile, has many walls built around him that even Kyungsoo and Joonmyun can't break down sometimes, haven't broken down just yet. There are many layers to him — different versions of Chanyeol that cater to the needs of people around him — shoulder-to-lean-on Chanyeol for those who are beginning to question their life and career choices, happy Chanyeol for his writers, big boss Chanyeol for when he needs to get certain things done in a short period of time, best buddy Chanyeol for when Joonmyun's feeling under the weather and can't be assed to get the medicine from the bathroom closet.

"You won't lose Lu Han, if that's what you wanted to hear."

Kyungsoo retracts his hands, starts adding sugar to his coffee. Kyungoo's face is a few shades redder, warmer than it had been when he arrived at the coffee shop. "I just really don't like sharing."

Joonmyun's mind goes back to an unanswered message from Baekhyun on Facebook, an invitation to see an exhibit in Insadong and maybe go shopping for _one of those ancient stuff,_ his mind says in its best Baekhyun imitation. Then he remembers deadlines, Kyungsoo's threat, waking up to Chanyeol's face smushed in his chest, the lazy smile and _hey_ that Chanyeol gives him when he accidentally slams his foot into Chanyeol's leg at such an early hour.

"I don't either," Joonmyun says in agreement. He takes one of the glasses of water and sips, leaving a mark as the lipbalm stains the rim.

 

 

He sees Chanyeol again just in time for lunch, hours after he stuffs Kyungsoo with enough caffeine to wash away Kyungsoo's worries. "Pray that I won't kick Baekhyun's balls when I see him, please," Kyungsoo says as a parting message, and Joonmyun just waves at him and blows a kiss in his direction. He adds a v-sign when Kyungsoo half grins, half scowls at him.

"I thought you didn't have stuff to do today," Joonmyun says as he matches Chanyeol's pace. They're headed to Insadong today to pay a visit to a restaurant they haven't eaten at in a while. Myeongdong and Hongdae house the most convenient picks, especially when they finish late after Chanyeol gets rid of the ridiculous typos in Joonmyun's manuscript. Chanyeol just looks at him before fixing his gaze straight ahead, long legs taking him ahead of Joonmyun.

"Hey, wait up!"

"You have to walk faster if you want to beat the lunch rush."

Chanyeol reaches Joonmyun's car faster than the owner could, and Joonmyun just gives up and gives in, handing Chanyeol his keys. Joonmyun calls dibs on the music, though; it's a fair trade-off since Chanyeol almost always takes control of the radio when he rides with Joonmyun. A James Morrison song is playing, and Chanyeol grins too brightly, too eagerly — it's a lose-lose situation for Joonmyun, really.

Chanyeol taps the steering wheel thrice before shifting to the reverse gear. The scars on Chanyeol's knuckles are gone — magic or make-up, he can't tell from this distance. He goes with words, instead.

"So why did you cancel on the breakfast date at the very last minute?"

Chanyeol chuckles. He doesn't answer until they've gotten out of the parking slot and Chanyeol has shifted to the normal gear. Chanyeol turns down the volume a bit. Joonmyun points at the seat belt and Chanyeol manages to slip it on with just one hand. "Met up with the associate editor for Cerulean. She said she came over a few days back and she intended to return, but then she was shipped off to Lord knows where for five days." Joonmyun hands him 6,000 won when they reach the exit, and Chanyeol takes it, hands it over to the cashier lady like clockwork.

A couple more seconds of silence and Joonmyun really doesn't know why his palms are sweaty when the aircon's set at normal temperature.

"So yeah, she was there for a while and we bumped into each other and the only lead she had about me was that I was tall and big ears. And a—"

"Gummy smile," Joonmyun adds. He clenches and unclenches his fists. Chanyeol has stopped again, but at least there are cars passing in front of them; Chanyeol easily gets distracted. "Am I right or am I right?"

"Yeah, yeah, you are." Chanyeol switches the turn signal on and turns to the left. James Morrison's song ends. Dave Matthews Band is up next.

Chanyeol talks about her for the next few minutes, up until they reach the next stop light. Petite, long hair with light curls towards the bottom, a smile that reaches to her eyes, bangs that reach up to her eye lashes. "Apparently, she's been with the company for three years now," Chanyeol says. He furrows his eyebrows — Joonmyun reads this as _how the hell is it possible that we've never seen each other before?_ The dark circles under Chanyeol's eyes are much, much lighter, and he smiles a little. At least Chanyeol actually has time to apply concealer and cares enough about himself to make himself look presentable today. "Seriously, how the hell do we not know each other?"

"I've got an answer to that question," Joonmyun replies. Chanyeol raises an eyebrow at him, and he simply smiles as he continues, " _Answers,_ actually. Do you want me to take you through each item?"

Chanyeol stares at him for a while like there's something so interesting about his face or maybe he's got booger peeking from his nose. Or maybe there's leftover breakfast at the corner of his lips. Then the light turns green and Chanyeol shifts in his seat, clutches at the gear stick and they're in motion again.

"Save 'em for later," Chanyeol says after a while, two stoplights after. "We've got time."

Joonmyun reaches for the volume knob the same time Chanyeol does, and Chanyeol does him a favor, lets his hand fall to his side as Joonmyun turns up the stereo just in time for a Coldplay song to come up. Chanyeol sings along, voice steady as he turns corners and steps on the gas and just keeps his eyes on the road.

Joonmyun hums under his breath. His mind goes, _Jaesuk has to learn to embrace his singing voice, Hyerin thinks. It's a wonderful, honeyed tone. She likes it._

 

 

They reach the restaurant just a few minutes after, and Joonmyun immediately grins as he sees the sign board in front. "The best samgyupsal in Seoul," they read out loud, and Chanyeol bumps his shoulders into Joonmyun's as they make getting through the door a game.

The owner eyes them with judgment, but they smile back at him, anyway, and proceed to occupy the table farthest from the entrance.

The last time they were here was shortly before graduation. "Gotta spend all those school money on something not school-related!" Chanyeol said loudly, obviously tipsy at three in the afternoon. They'd started downing soju at twelve and had been taking shots even as they sorted their graduation papers. They even managed to attend the short meeting for the people graduating with distinction. Kyungsoo's bringing home the _Best Thesis_ award on Saturday, and he'd said, "Okay, that's it, one more bottle and it's on me!"

Five in the afternoon and four bottles of soju after, they were already drunk as hell and giggling as they tried _really hard_ to make their way to Anggukdong, walking the whole time.

"Soo's gonna throw a fit it he finds out we're here," Chanyeol comments once they're seated and the side dishes have been served. He pokes tentatively at the wasabi discs and shrugs when one of the servers arrives with Chilsung cider and a pitcher of water. "Will he figure it out if I foodstagram the shit out of this lunch?"

Joonmyun furrows his eyebrows, plays along as he purses his lips and squints. "Not if we don't post at the same time."

"Well, what do you know," Chanyeol replies. He's moving his head from side to side. This means he's excited, that there's a secret he wants to spill but _can't_ because he's under oath, or maybe he's just plain famished. "I was thinking the same thing."

A smile lights the corners of Chanyeol's lips, and Joonmyun leans closer. He's seen this before, about a couple of years back, possibly when they'd just started working. It's not one that Chanyeol wears often, or maybe he does; Chanyeol just has too many different kinds of smiles that Joonmyun sometimes has a hard time figuring a particular one out. _Ah._ Seo Joohyun from the Emerald Department. Big fan of manhwas. The girl who blushed a shade of red so bright the first time she saw Kyungsoo that the seniors gave her the nickname "Tomato Hyun".

"Okay, spill it," Joonmyun finally says. "The last time you looked like that was when Joohyun finally gave you a chance and went out with you."

Chanyeol eyes widen; there's a hint of a blush across his cheeks. "You remember that?"

"What can I say, I have great memory." Joonmyun winks, then gestures at one of the servers. "One bottle of soju, please."

The samgyupsal arrives not too long after, and Chanyeol keeps his eyes fixed on the server's hands, watches as she cuts up the pork and carefully places each piece on the cooker. Joonmyun takes over cookies duties, chucking some garlic and onion into the mix. He pokes at Chanyeol's tongs when Chanyeol tries to intercept and take a piece in its raw state, and Chanyeol only laughs.

One of Chanyeol's talents: evasion. Letting a topic slide until before they start drinking so Joonmyun can forget about it completely and never bring it up again. Joonmyun's effective counter is simply patience or being a complete annoyance, asking about it again and again until Chanyeol yields and finally says, two shots of soju after, "The girl's actually kinda cute."

" _Actually kinda cute?_ " Joonmyun chuckles and pours Chanyeol another shot. The next wave of orders arrives — two more orders of samgyupsal and more kimchi. This time, Chanyeol places some kimchi on the grill and lathers gochujang on the pieces of pork. _One more shot,_ Joonmyun thinks. That would do the trick.

He glances at his wrist watch. It's a bit too early to get drunk but if this is the only way for Chanyeol to take a break and just generally have a good time, then he can live with a splitting headache at six in the evening.

Chanyeol's easiest to read when he's tipsy and asking for more alcohol. His facial expressions are more exaggerated than ever, but only because he means each and every single one of them, even the lightest of snorts and the scrunching of the nose. He keeps a smile plastered to his lips the whole time he talks about this _kinda cute girl_ , and Joonmyun finds himself smiling along, laughing at the key parts — when Chanyeol confesses that he might have checked her out before he left the office, saying, "Damn, she's got a nice ass."

"Pics or it didn't happen," Joonmyun teases. The grin on Chanyeol's lips says, _You don't want to mess with me, Kim Joonmyun. You really don't._ At the back of Joonmyun's mind, a small voice replies, _I just want to see you exposed and vulnerable so I can write you better._

They wrap up lunch at around four in the afternoon, once Chanyeol's sobered up considerably after copious servings of tteokbokki and ice cream. "Your stomach's gonna fuck up later," Joonmyun warns him, but Chanyeol just shrugs it off, a bright, bright smile on his lips and Joonmyun thinks, wonders if it's just the thrill of meeting someone new that's got Chanyeol on the balls of his feet or if it's really attraction that's behind the child-like glimmer in his eyes.

There are no happy endings, after all, only resolutions.

Joonmyun doesn't drive off until Chanyeol has disappeared into a corner of the company's building. He blasts Nickelback songs on his way back home, alcohol finally pounding on his head as if saying, _This is what you get for pushing people off the edge. Payback for your crimes, Kim Joonmyun. Payback for your selfishness._


	3. Chapter 3

Chanyeol resurfaces to the world of the living with a short text — _m sory 4 this p.m. didn't think i was gonna get drunk._

Joonmyun chuckles as soon as he reads the whole message. He pushes himself away from his desk — the intent is to adjust his airconditioning, but he ends up lying on his stomach. _no worries, it was my fault c;,_ Joonmyun replies, and the flips over so that he's lying flat on his back. The image of Chanyeol's smile still burns at the back of his eyelids. The sound of Chanyeol's laughter has his stomach in knots; it's not even the alcohol talking.

 _"It's been a while since I last saw you like this,"_ a voice that sounds a lot like Hyerin's says in Joonmyun's mind. He shakes his head and gets back to his feet, leaving his phone on the bed.

The next he hears from Chanyeol is the sound of the door bell. Eight in the evening isn't early, but it's early enough for Chanyeol. "Peace offering for bailing out of breakfast and for you having to drag my ass to the office," is Chanyeol's greeting when Joonmyun gets the door — he's got two cups of take out frappuccino in one hand, two boxes of pizza in the other. "Now move over; the pizza's kinda heavy."

"Stuffed crust?" Joonmyun asks, both hands on his waist as he looks up at Chanyeol expectantly. Chanyeol scrunches his nose, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips, like he knows he's messed up but he messed up _on purpose_ because he knows Joonmyun loves any kind of pizza (stuffed crust is only for special occasions). Joonmyun waits, looks past Chanyeol and at the open door behind him, and Chanyeol resurfaces with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Don't get too cocky; you're still half the reason I got this messed up in the first place." Chanyeol slips through the small opening between Joonmyun and the wall, a faint _aha!_ slipping from his lips as he heads straight to the kitchen.

It's been a while, Joonmyun thinks, since they've last done this — drank too much in the middle of the day, had two boxes of pizza to themselves _and_ drank frappe while stuffing themselves to the brim. It feels like a celebration; Joonmyun's not even done with his draft yet.

"I'm 70% done!" Joonmyun calls out after Chanyeol. When he reaches his own kitchen, Chanyeol's already popping a wine bottle open, a grin on his lips. "I thought the goal was getting ourselves high with pizza and sugar, not screwing up our stomachs with _all these things._ "

"Relax," Chanyeol says in that _hey, I've got this_ voice of his, like he's easing Joonmyun into a new writing style or convincing Joonmyun that the most recent review of his book isn't that bad. "I can push back the draft deadline if you really end up having a date with the toilet."

"And I thought you wanted to make me happy. Maybe I should call up Kris or Baekhyun."

A flash of— _something_ Joonmyun can't quite pinpoint as Chanyeol furrows his eyebrows but laughs whatever it is away. "Don't be silly. I'm the only one who can make you happy."

"Wrong. There's also coffee."

Chanyeol pretends to pick up his phone, drawing it close to his face as he says, "Hey, Kyungsoo, Joonmyun just said you're not good enough for him—"

"Chanyeol!"

Joonmyun knows Chanyeol doesn't actually have Kyungsoo on the phone, nor does he intend to let Kyungsoo know about their _little secret_ , but he reaches over the counter, anyway, then walks over to where Chanyeol is and hugs him from behind, sneaking one hand between Chanyeol's waist and his arms to reach for the phone. "Give it—" But Chanyeol only puts up a fight all the more, and soon Joonmyun ends up with his arms wrapped around Chanyeol, face buried in Chanyeol's back, fingers digging into Chanyeol's shirt. He plays with a button tentatively and Chanyeol freezes, quick breaths in tandem with the pulse in his hands pressed on Joonmyun's own.

"Joonmyun."

Joonmyun opens his eyes and takes a deep breath, then lets his hands fall to his sides. Chanyeol pulls away, turns around so that they're facing each other. The first two buttons of his polo are undone; two towards to bottom, as well, casualties from when Joonmyun tried to wrestle Chanyeol's phone from his hands. Chanyeol's just staring at him, eyebrows furrowed, lips contorted in an odd sort of manner like he's trying to find the right words for something that could have gone wrong. Joonmyun turns on his heel, finally opens the box of pizza, and takes a deep breath until the scent of meat and cheese and bread fills his lungs, until it flushes out the scent of Chanyeol's cologne and the feeling of the nice fit of his arms around Chanyeol's waist.

"Dibs on pepperoni," Joonmyun says. He chokes on the last word as Chanyeol heads straight for the slice just beside the one he's eyeing. Their hands brush against each other.

Chanyeol looks at him with that silly grin again. Joonmyun scoffs, snorts, stuffs his mouth with pizza before he can say more.

 

 

(The last time this happened was back in college, ass drunk at eleven in the evening in Kyungsoo's dorm room.

Kyungsoo had passed out on the couch, lying flat on his stomach, mumbling something about _stupid tall people, gonna evolve someday and hello, Magikarp, let me love you_. Chanyeol had just poured himself and Joonmyun another shot. "We have to finish this tonight," Chanyeol said, pointing at the remaining liquid in the bottle. Red Label had never been Joonmyun's favorite, but in the absence of Black Label, it was the next best thing.

"Fuck, I still haven't finished my paper." Joonmyun took the shot, seething as soon as the liquid made contact with his lips. Chanyeol laughed at him silly and downed the shot in one gulp, and ended coughing right after. Joonmyun didn't laugh, but he did grin at Chanyeol, an eyebrow raised as if saying, _So who's the loser now?_

"Just copy from Kyungsoo," Chanyeol replied three minutes after the topic ceased to be relevant. The sound of Kyungsoo's snores shot up and the sleep talking got louder — he was talking about taking notes and stupid tall people, still, and his too-sexy-for-girls body. "My paper's, like, 80% lifted from his."

"Does he know?"

Chanyeol chuckles. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Chanyeol whipped out a Crayola marker from his back pocket or Lord knew where, uncapped it, and crawled over to where Kyungsoo was. "What he can't see while he's asleep won't hurt him, either."

"Chanyeol—" Joonmyun was struggling to keep it together — payback for Kyungsoo drawing on their faces whenever they got drunk as hell, yes, but it would be harder to copy from Kyungsoo if Chanyeol so much as drew a dot on Kyungsoo's face. "Don't— Stop—"

Joonmyun lunged forward, trying to reach for the marker, but ended up with his arms around Chanyeol. Chanyeol, with all the balance of a paper doll on a broken stand, toppled over, falling on his back but quickly rolling to his side. Joonmyun was half crushed beneath alcohol and Chanyeol's body, and Chanyeol's elbow was poking him somewhere, and Chanyeol's face was close, close enough that he could smell the alcohol and the pizza Chanyeol had eaten just minutes ago and the bubblegum Chanyeol had right after.

Close enough that their noses bumped and that if Joonmyun closed his eyes and leaned forward, by just a centimeter, he'd be doing something he could choke up to _too much alcohol_ the following day.

"Jigglypuff, return!" came Kyungsoo's voice, and Chanyeol leaned back a bit, pushed himself off of Joonmyun and off the floor. Joonmyun craned his neck, gaze traveling past Chanyeol's frame and straight to Kyungsoo's sleeping figure on the couch. Chanyeol extended a hand in his direction, toothy smile back in place. His gums were more pink than ever, or maybe that was just the poor lighting in the dorm.

"You can copy from me," Chanyeol said after a while, while they were straightening out their clothes.

Joonmyun nodded slowly. His head was still heavy from all the alcohol. His body ached in all the right places. "Not a chance. I can do better," he said, wore a shaky smile, took the lone shot of tequila on the table.

Chanyeol's smile was too bright for a drunk man at eleven in the evening. Everything that Chanyeol had touched stung.)

 

 

The first thing they talk about the following day is how cold coffee makes a potentially great day marginally less exciting.

"I mean," Chanyeol begins as he arranges the papers on his desk and shuffles them to one side of the table. He clears a portion of his desk, smiling up at Joonmyun as Joonmyun hands him his morning coffee. "If you've set your mind on having hot coffee in the morning _then_ get served warm coffee, instead, wouldn't that be disappointing?"

"You take your coffee too seriously," Joonmyun replies. He throws the coffee carrier into the waste basket and sets his laptop on the small table next to Chanyeol's desk.

"No, I take it black."

Joonmyun shakes his head. "Well, someone had a good night's sleep."

Chanyeol's response is faint humming and a stream of giggles. Joonmyun can hear Chanyeol opening his laptop, keying in something before he gets a better reply — "I slept well."

"Okay, I've got to meet her. Show me the girl."

It's like one of those scenes in the movies when a particular character says a line and something happens _coincidentally_. Joonmyun has lived to see too many of those moments, but usually he just watches from a safe distance and laughs as it unfolds in front of him — Jongdae declaring to the world that he has the biggest crush on Li Yin and Li Yin walking into the room as if on cue, Jongin's confession scene in the bleachers after that big game where Soojung kissed him in the rain. Kyungsoo snarling at Lu Han as Lu Han grinned brightly at him and said, _Hey, I pushed back your deadline. Aren't you glad I'm your editor?_

"Chanyeol!" comes a bright voice from the doorstep. Joonmyun looks to his side, eyes the girl with great interest, and gulps hard. She's seen this girl before, but this is the first time he's actually looking at her from head to toe, taking in everything about her.

Chanyeol's description does not do her justice — she's beautiful, painfully disarming, and Joonmyun can feel his stomach lurching in several different directions all at once. Chanyeol stands from his seat, perfect smile intact, and she walks over to where he is. Her hair bobs as she walks. She's got the fairest skin Joonmyun has ever seen, and her smile rivals that of Chanyeol's. In this dream, Joonmyun would probably be gawking and sputtering nonsense in front of her. Reality check: she's looking at him and not at Chanyeol.

Joonmyun stands automatically, bumping his knee into the small table. He quickly holds his laptop down and steadies the table as he turns to her and croaks, "Hi."

"Joonmyun, this is Hwang Miyoung. She's the—" _kinda cute girl,_ Joonmyun's brain interrupts. "Associate editor of the Cerulean department," Chanyeol finishes.

Miyoung bows to him, eyes never leaving his own. He returns the gesture, and the amused smile on Chanyeol's lips really isn't making things any better. "I've read your books; they're amazing."

Joonmyun can feel his lips quiver. He gulps hard before replying, "Thank you. Your hair's beautiful. I mean the magazines, the fashion magazines and the hairstyling section — my friend loves the write ups there. And the photography. And the layout."

"Well, what do you know — I art-direct all the photoshoots for the magazine. Thank you, Joonmyun-ssi."

"Just Joonmyun is fine." He clears his throat when Chanyeol makes this tiny heart sign at him. He tries another smile, this time more relaxed, more natural. The corners of her lips tug further up and he can tell she feels much more comfortable now, as well. "Can I call you Miyoung?"

"Certainly. Chanyeol here calls me that." She chuckles before continuing, "And a few more things."

Joonmyun can feel his pulse quicken. He gulps hard. "A few more things."

Chanyeol steps between them, gestures for Miyoung to take a seat and to put the documents down on his table. Chanyeol's desk isn't usually a mess, but transition has papers covering his table like a Christmas present, except the wrapper's actually the present; and Miyoung, the ribbon, with the curls of her hair being the trimmings. She's a present, in herself. There are voices at the back of Joonmyun's mind again, characters talking to each other. _I'm Jang Yuri,_ one of the voices says. _"Jaesuk here is quite the hardworker, isn't he?"_

A more familiar female voice speaks up — _"He's a workaholic."_ He hears Jaesuk's voice somewhere in the background, more definitively when Chanyeol finally goes for the save to say, "Ma'am, madam, my lady, Hwang-ssi — yes, a few more things!"

Miyoung laughs a little before shaking her head at Chanyeol. "Anyway, I just wanted to discuss a few things with you, but more than anything else we need to pin down the timings for your move to Cerulean." She pauses for a while, furrows her eyebrows slightly before a sliver of laughter slips from her lips again. "It's really weird to be talking to my future boss like this."

"Well, then," Chanyeol begins, then leans forward, propping his hands under his chin. "Treat me as a friend in the mean time, until I take the seat beside yours in the office."

"The editor-in-chief sits opposite the associate editor," Miyoung retorts. There's a challenge written on the upward tug of the lip and the eyebrow. _Too easy,_ Joonmyun thinks. She knows how to control Chanyeol, knows how to lure him in and push him away in a blink of an eye. She knows the subtle art of flirting and shoving one's face down the ground. "But since that kinda makes things easier, I'll take you up on that offer… _Chanyeollie_?"

Joonmyun slowly sinks to his chair and taps the cover of his laptop lightly. His stomach lurches again. Chanyeol's slips on _that smile_ for the nth time since Miyoung has entered the room.

He stares at the cursor blinking at him, as if asking, _What are you getting yourself into, Kim Joonmyun?_

 

 

If there's a feeling in this world that Joonmyun really, truly hates, it's feeling like a complete third wheel.

He knows it's his own doing — it's his choice to work in Chanyeol's office and not in a coffee shop, after all — but when Miyoung's occasional visits turn into daily chats about work and _many other things_ that include Miyoung loving Italian food — "Or just pizza, really," — her penchant for sci-fi books, Chanyeol's office transforms into a waiting area for a budding relationship instead of a place where one can work _peacefully_.

Joonmyun has stopped pulling up a playlist while writing a long time ago. Suddenly, his earbuds have never seemed so enticing.

A small hand comes to rest on his shoulder and Joonmyun stirs, hands working quickly as he minimizes his writing document and switches to a tab about marketing jobs and tailored suits and a GranTurismo. "That's a really handsome car," Miyoung says once he takes off his earplugs, and he looks up at her with a practiced smile and a curt nod.

"Why not a GranCabrio, though?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, if you're buying a Maserati, might as well go with one that can sweep people off their feet," Miyoung continues. She points at the car in Joonmyun's screen. "The GranTurismo's a stunner, but the GranCabrio's a head-turner."

Joonmyun furrows his eyebrows for a while and slowly, _slowly_ stands from his seat. "She likes cars," Chanyeol chimes from behind them, and Joonmyun's lips tug up automatically despite the storm in his stomach. The same lurching sensation. Maybe he should go see a doctor.

"I'd go with a CRZ, honestly," Joonmyun replies. Miyoung's face lights up, the smile on her lips growing wider until she reaches out to hold Joonmyun's hand. Joonmyun freezes, gulps hard, maybe even shakes a little when Miyoung gives his hands a light squeeze. The last time he's held a girl's hand was when he danced with his mother in the living room to get her spirits up. The last time he's held anyone's hand was when Chanyeol had a panic attack and needed someone to tell him, _Everything will be alright, Chanyeollie. Everything will be okay._

"But the bragging rights that a Maserati brings—"

"Are not enough to compensate for the price," Joonmyun finishes. Miyoung's rubbing circles on the back of his hands. His knees feel like they might give away any second, but at least there's the chair to catch him. Or Chanyeol — he isn't too far away, just a few good inches from Miyoung, and he isn't quite smiling, but he's not frowning either. There's a small upward tug at the corners, but his eyes are tired and the dark circles are visible again — sometimes he wants to stay the night in Chanyeol's house just so he can make sure Chanyeol makes time for himself and to make himself look better than he already does.

Joonmyun lets his hands fall to his sides. There's a tiny jerk of the arms from Miyoung, but the smile on her lips hasn't wavered. "I have an R8, by the way," he mentions, then saves his document before pulling the monitor down. He fixes his mind on his packing routine — cool pad first, then the laptop, then the charger in the front pocket. Laptop bag on his left, a cup of coffee in his right hand. Chanyeol conveniently beside him to snatch his car keys from him and drive him — _them_ — to wherever they want to eat or maybe straight home.

He looks at Chanyeol. He can finally feel his lips again, stable and warm. "Lunch?" he asks, and he earns a blink from Chanyeol, the sharp rise of the chest, a soft _I can't, sorry._

"Oh. Busy with transition?"

"I promised Miyoung—"

"I've been trying to get him to take me to that great samgyupsal place in Insadong, you see," Miyoung adds. There's a sheepish smile on her lips. She's still beautiful even with the look of discomfort in her features. Her hair falls to her chest, loose curls bouncing briefly. She's even more beautiful with Chanyeol in a white button-down polo right beside her. "He's been raving about it for a while already so—"

Joonmyun shrugs, slips into a casual smile as he slings the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "I'll see you two around, then. I'll just grab a quick bite then go to a coffee shop or something."

"You can join us," Chanyeol says.

Joonmyun looks up at him, eyes lingering on his lips, the smile it forms — one of those hybrid smiles that Chanyeol uses when he says one thing but means another. Right now, with a grumbling stomach, Joonmyun can't decipher the message, so he just replies, "Nah, it's fine. You two need to bond and go out more to have a better working relationship and other shit, yeah." He can feel his pulse quickening in his hands, the base of his throat, in one part of his jaw. He turns to Miyoung and says, "Make sure to ask for extra yellow radish. You won't regret it."

He slips from the conversation and makes his way out of the room, but Miyoung calls out after him, "Is it free of charge?" He risks a glance over his shoulder and locks eyes with Chanyeol for a moment, then he shifts his gaze to Miyoung's hand on Chanyeol's shoulder, Miyoung's beautiful smile, Chanyeol's lips hanging slightly parted in one of those facial expressions that can both mean nothing and everything. Another lurch, the turn and tumble in his stomach. He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but every fiber of his being wants to pry Miyoung's fingers from Chanyeol's shoulder one by one, wants to drag Miyoung to the farthest corner of the room and tell her to stay there, don't go anywhere. _You can't touch him, Yuri. You don't know anything about Jaesuk. You don't know him the way I do._

"Yes. Yes, it is," he replies. He feels like the smile he's wearing can rip through his mouth, the rest of his face. It stings. He bows to Miyoung, then Chanyeol, and makes sure to lock the door behind him.

 

 

It's the longest trip from the office building to the parking lot around the block, with Joonmyun's laptop bag slung over his shoulder and a thousand different voices harping at him, characters talking to him in different voices. _Yuri's perfect for him, Jaesuk looks so happy with her; don't you think so, Hyerin?_ "Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up," he says as soon as he reaches his car, hands shaking as he gets inside and rests his head on the steering wheel.

"Make it stop," he says at the same time Hyerin, in the mind, does. "Yuri's not perfect for him. No one else would be better for him but—"

Jason Mraz starts singing, and only after a while does he realize that it's his phone that's sounding off. The display reads **Do Kyungsoo** in big characters. He takes a deep breath, counts in his mind until Kyungsoo hangs up, then unlocks his phone. He calls speed dial 2.

 

 

"You're jealous."

"Youre _crazy,_ " Joonmyun retorts through a mouthful of kimbap. Kyungsoo's quick thinking has led them to Hwang Geum Dwaeji, a restaurant near Exit 7. Joonmyun let Kyungsoo decide on the orders for once, and somehow they'd ended up with more kimbap than expected. There's no such thing as too much soju and samgyupsal, after all.

"You drag me all the way to this place and make me pay for everything, _then_ call me crazy? Wow. Some manners, Joonmyun."

Joonmyun pours himself another shot of soju and drinks it, then looks up at Kyungsoo. "I'm stressed _and_ distressed. I used to think I was a robot, but what do you know — I actually have feelings."

Kyungsoo reaches over to pat his arm in the best, most consoling way possible, then makes grabby hands at the soju bottle. Kyungsoo's concept of consoling a person is letting that person talk until he's got nothing to say anymore. That's when he'll share his two cents and offer a hug as icing on the cake. Joonmyun's not in the mood to talk, but then neither is Kyungsoo, so they just eat and take shots as they watch the samgyupsal get cooked, pale beige turning into an enticing shade of brown.

"Chanyeol's in that restaurant in Insadong right now," Kyungsoo says after a while. He turns one slice of pork over before continuing, "He texted me to text you to make sure you're still alive."

"Why didn't he text Jongdae and Jongin, instead?"

"Because international texts are more expensive?" Kyungsoo chuckles and shakes his head.

Kyungsoo is smiling more than the usual. And with teeth, too. It might just be the alcohol doing it's magic, Joonmyun thinks. Kyungsoo's bright smiles are almost always reserved for when he's had too much alcohol or that moment right after he sees the first print of his new manhwa. A single moment of surrender and weakness. Miyoung's hand on Chanyeol's shoulder. Chanyeol's soft smile and bright eyes when he talks to Miyoung. Joonmyun's hands shaking when Miyoung lays her own hands on them. The turmoil in his stomach that even the right type of food can't remedy.

"You're a mess."

"I am."

"You're at least 80% done with your draft, right?"

"Probably. I'm at the turning point where some Jang Yuri shows up and sweeps Jaesuk off his feet and Hyerin just… kind of stares. And watches Yuri flirt with Jaesuk. And laughs when Jaesuk tries really hard to flirt back."

Kyungsoo scoffs. "Hyerin's just scared to say something she'll regret," he comments, then places some strips of pork on Joonmyun's plate. Joonmyun just stares at the meat and inhales the smoke reaching his nostrils. "I think she should do something."

Joonmyun pokes one strip with his chopstick and looks up. "Like what?"

"You're the writer, Joonmyun, not me. In my world, Hyerin's so predictably depressed because she has to share Jaesuk with Yuri. Excessive use of toner and white space for this particular scene. A full-page spread with a close-up of Hyerin's profile on the left, an image of Jaesuk and Yuri laughing together on the right." Kyungsoo chuckles. "It's perfect."

Joonmyun scowls, takes a deep breath. He blows at the piece of pork for one last time, then pops it in his mouth. "My life's not a manhwa."

"That's what you think," is all that Kyungsoo says.

 _I wish it could be that easy,_ Joonmyun wants to retort, but life isn't all happy endings and sparkles and requited love — real life is bittersweet bordering on cruel. There are deaths everyday — real or otherwise, like the death of a feeling or a relationship. This is the subplot of every life story: pain and misery that makes the whole concept of existence feel more real. Hyerin's had Jaesuk to herself all her life, and maybe she might have felt something for him somewhere between trying to study for a Calculus exam and Jaesuk resting his chin on Hyerin's shoulder. Now that she has to share, she doesn't know what to feel. Or maybe she does; she just doesn't want to admit that there's a clawing pain in her chest as she watches Jaesuk talk to Yuri with _that smile_ on his lips. Now that she's willing to admit that _maybe_ she really does need someone in her life, someone to keep her grounded and keep her from plummeting to the ground, Jaesuk has seemingly fallen on deaf ears.

"I wish it was," Joonmyun whispers. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the soju, pours himself and Kyungsoo shots until the bottle is empty and his vision gets blurred, a flurry of colors and emotions and words waiting to be written down, Hyerin's voice in his mind saying, _Please, please, just make these feelings go away._

 

 

There's a legitimate reason for Joonmyun to not show up in Chanyeol's office for the next few days. Written in bold and bright letters: draft due in a month; at the very back of his mind: _I can't stand the sight of a girl and a boy running around in circles when they're so obviously infatuated with each other._

Joonmyun reaches for his cup of coffee and snarls when his knuckles graze the hot surface. He never learns.

From the time Kyungsoo dragged him out of his misery up until today, he's written only a considerably small chunk of the story, just a little backstory on Hyerin and Jaesuk's friendship, some of the trials they had gone through together and how they triumphed over those. He's been rewriting the part where Yuri and Jaesuk met — he's gone through two to three drafts already, scrapped them all even before he could progress to the next scene — and the gradual development of the relationship, all while keeping in mind that it's he's supposed to be writing from Jaesuk's point-of-view and not Hyerin's rather clouded perception. He sticks to Jaesuk noticing small things about Yuri, the little gestures that somehow draw him in and make her infinitely more interesting than she already is. Hyerin's there to remind Jaesuk periodically that he doesn't know Yuri yet, that it's too early to be feeling anything for her, that _maybe it's just your years of being single talking, maybe you're just too eager to be loved again_. It makes perfect sense in Joonmyun's mind.

His phone buzzes and the screen lights up — two unread messages from Chanyeol, the first asking about his whereabouts and the second inviting him to _please, please, please get me out of my office, I'm going insane!_ Joonmyun looks at the last line he has written — "You can't give in too easily, Jaesuk. Fight it until you're sure of what you feel for her."

He takes a deep breath, types _there there, it's okay chanyeollie_ , and lays his phone flat on the table. He's never thought of himself as an ass, but times are changing; he might as well consider himself one now.

Two beeps, three, and Joonmyun finds his rhythm again, finishing the scene with Jaesuk resolving to himself that he won't give in to his feelings just yet. Jaesuk returns to work and hangs up on Hyerin. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning when receives a text from Yuri, saying, _hope you had a great lunch! c:_

Joonmyun unlocks his screen and goes through Chanyeol's messages. He takes a deep breath.

_joonmyun :c i need you right now  
please  
don't leave me :c_

 

 

The longest he's gone without a phone call with Chanyeol is a day, but only because he forgot to pay his phone bill. He was in the middle of writing his third book then, and Kyungsoo somehow had the mind to pay him a visit in his house and clean up the stench of his writing binge. "Now give me your phone bill and cash so Chanyeol can stop worrying about you," Kyungsoo had said, and Joonmyun handed Kyungsoo his wallet without any hesitation.

Twelve days, eight hours, and thirty seven minutes — this is a new record. Joonmyun's both proud of himself and completely disgusted. The only thing he ever texts Chanyeol these days is his progress on the draft in percentage.

Chanyeol texted _are you eating well?_ thirty minutes ago; Joonmyun has spent the last ten minutes trying to come up with a safe enough reply that won't have Chanyeol rushing to his house smack in the middle of the day.

 _yeah, i'm good,_ he answers, adds a smiley at the end just to make the message more believable. Chanyeol has this peculiar talent in deciphering people's moods through text and can even see through the thin veil of emoticons. Or maybe Chanyeol can just see right through him with very minimal effort.

 _i'm so bad at this,_ he texts Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo replies with a _boohoo poor you_ , quickly followed by a _dude go talk to him, you're fucking driving him nuts._

_and? accidentally tell him that miyoung's presence makes me feel uneasy? tell him to stay away from her and when he asks me why, i'll just tell him i don't fucking know?_

_better than hiding from him imo. no srsly for all uknow he might be standing at ur doorstep, just waiting for u to ask him when he's free for dinner._

Joonmyun takes a deep breath. Kyungsoo is right.

Joonmyun likes to think of himself as a highly logical, practical man, but the world of words and stories screws up with his one-track mind and his guarded heart. For years, he's had a wall around himself that only few can break down — his mother, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, that cute kid he found crying in the street and offered ice cream to, _dogs_ — and he's comfortable living here in the four corners of his rather bland fort. This is where it's the warmest and safest, and he'd made sure that when Kris and Baekhyun tried to knock on the door, they'd bruise their knuckles. It was a test to see who'd dare pry the door open or even attempt to break into his fort through the windows.

Chanyeol apparates in and out of his fort with relative ease. He doesn't have to try too hard.

 _sorry for being an ass recently, just have to finish this thing,_ he finally texts Chanyeol, then shuts down his phone even before he can hear it sound off again. He looks at the Word document in front of him and, with a deep breath, resumes typing, the goal of resolving Jaesuk's feelings for Yuri clear in his mind.

 

 

Three in the morning isn't the best time to check Facebook, but Joonmyun pulls up his Facebook tab, anyway, and looks for an unanswered message from weeks back. The exhibit's probably over by now and Baekhyun has already probably gotten the art materials he wanted to buy, but it's worth a shot, he thinks as he types his greeting — _hey baekhyun, sorry for the late reply, i've been really—_

He stops abruptly when the icon beside Baekhyun's name turns from a gray mobile icon to a bright green dot. The words _Byun Baekhyun is typing…_ soon appear at the bottom of the chat log.

_hey uknow what's funny?  
ur frend kyugnsoo s my officemate and he kinda hates my guts  
guess he sees me as a cmpetition  
kekeke_

The thing with relationships, albeit short-lived, is that a piece of the person you've shared part of your life with will always remain in you. Baekhyun's voice still rings brightly in Joonmyun's ears and Baekhyun probably still remembers Joonmyun reminding him to drink his medicines every morning. Joonmyun has developed an appreciation for manhwa because Baekhyun's enthusiasm for them is enough to draw in even the biggest non-believer in happy endings.

Joonmyun has the perfect mental image of Baekhyun delivering each and every line in that Facebook message, and it ends, as always, with a smug grin on Baekhyun's lips that slowly disappears into an embarrassed smile, and eventually melts into laughter. _Baby steps._ Baekhyun's voice reverberates in Joonmyun's ears. There are no shortcuts to achieving good things. Everything good is hard to get.

_yeah, i heard.  
hey baek, sorry for not being able to reply sooner. was really busy. :c_

_lol yea i figured. always d busy man. is chanyol even taking care of u?_

Joonmyun laughs a little. Maybe he should be the one asking that to himself — is he being considerate enough to Chanyeol? _it's complicated,_ he replies, instead. After a while, he adds, _you up for breakfast tomorrow or something?_

_oh u mean later? idk man uknow im not exactly an early riser  
but for u i'll wake up early c;  
gimme a wake up call pls :*_

Joonmyun laughs and scribbles on the piece of paper closest to him — _WAKE UP CALL: Byun Baekhyun_ — in big and bold characters.

_same number, right? 11am? brunch so you can still get your beauty rest? ahaha~_

Baekhyun's reply pops up on his screen and Joonmyun automatically cackles in response.

_uve got urself a date baby ☆_

 

 

Joonmyun calls Baekhyun at least five times before he decides to drive to Baekhyun's flat in Sinchondong. He doesn't blame Baekhyun, though; they said their goodbyes just a few minutes short of four in the morning, after all. Joonmyun's body clock is just messed up in a good sort of way, that's all; eight in the morning and he's already raring to grab breakfast and get writing.

He's lucky enough to avoid traffic in Seoul at this hour, arriving at Baekhyun's building in a little over thirty minutes. Baekhyun greets him at the door in his pyjamas and bed hair, eyes too small and lips lifeless. "Fuck," Baekhyun mumbles, immediately followed by a scowl, but he still remembers to address Joonmyun's presence, ushering him inside and pushing him to the living room.

"How many times did you call me?"

Joonmyun shrugs and eyes the mess that is Baekhyun's living room with great interest. He starts with the couch — he lines up the pillows and Baekhyun begins to make this gurgling noise that Joonmyun just takes as a sign to go on. "Four, five? Lost track. I've been awake since eight."

" _What?_ " Baekhyun slaps Joonmyun's hand but follows suit, anyway, attending to the pillows on the small couches. "We slept at four; how can you be alive by eight in the morning?"

"Magic," Joonmyun answers as he looks over his shoulder. "And pretty refreshed, too."

"Ah, I get it. You're excited to see me."

"I'd say yes, but it's already past eleven and you _promised_ to meet me at eleven."

Baekhyun throws his hands up in the air and starts to walk away, taking the route to his bathroom. "Fine, fine. I'll be out in fifteen."

Nothing much has changed, Joonmyun thinks — Baekhyun still has a habit of maintaining the mess in the house, he still uses pillowcases with superhero designs on them, and the only thing that's safe enough for habitation is Baekhyun's kitchen. His fridge is unusually clean and everything's sealed, and there's a calendar hanging from the door now — marked with an X is today's box with the words _brunch with Joonmyun_ written in tiny characters.

And then, just below the calendar, pieces of paper with characters drawn all over them — one that looks a lot like Kyungsoo, another that looks a lot like Lu Han. There's one that looks like Joonmyun, too, somewhere towards the bottom of the pile. It's dated a few weeks back.

Joonmyun returns to the living room and cleans it up, doesn't touch the art materials and papers at the center of the carpet.

"Wow. Where am I?" Baekhyun says once he resurfaces, hair still wet from his shower. He's clad in a white polo and jeans, and there's a sweatshirt slung over his shoulder. Joonmyun looks for a trace of the neon colors Baekhyun used to love wearing, but to no avail; the colors are slightly muted but not so flat, still _Baekhyun_ , in a sense, but different as well. "I think I'm the wrong house. Is this where you live?"

Joonmyun chuckles and sinks back into the couch. "Nah, not anymore."

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow for a while, then sits down beside Joonmyun as he dries his hair. Baekhyun reaches for the remote and turns the television on. Some static, then he hands the remote to Joonmyun as he says, "You pick."

This, Joonmyun thinks as the memory of Baekhyun wrestling him for the remote on too many occasions plays in his mind, is change — small and insignificant, but change nonetheless.

The real talk happens once they reach Insadong. Despite Joonmyun's many visits to Insadong, he's only even gone there for one restaurant and the art shops, so Baekhyun automatically bursts into laughter when he sees the signage of the samgyupsal place. "Man, you haven't changed at all," Baekhyun comments as they enter the restaurant, and Joonmyun jabs him lightly in his side. Baekhyun only ever responds with laughter.

Baekhyun props his hands under his chin, smirking once Joonmyun's done ordering food. "So, what do you need me to do today?" he asks.

"I— Nothing? I just thought we'd do some catching up and all."

"We never just do some _catching up_ when you seek me out like this, Joonmyun." Baekhyun leans closer. There's still a trace of laughter bubbling on his lips. "C'mon, you know me, you can tell me anything. Shoot."

"Am I really that—?"

"Predictable? Yes. Do you really hate it, being predictable?" Baekhyun chuckles. "Hell, yeah."

Joonmyun parts his lips but presses them thinly together not too longer after. They haven't talked in months, and yet Baekhyun still has him memorized like that back of his hand. Baekhyun could maneuver his way back into Joonmyun's life if he wanted to — possibly, _maybe_ — but Baekhyun has embraced change now. Baekhyun has moved on, _is moving on_ by finally accepting the job of his dreams despite being encased in the four walls of the office. Baekhyun actually keeps track of dates now. Baekhyun's going for kimchi before wasabi now, as the side dishes get served; Baekhyun always starts with wasabi, but it seems that months of being apart has Joonmyun clawing for information on Baekhyun, like he doesn't know the man sitting opposite him as much anymore.

"So why did you meet up with me? And here, no less?"

Joonmyun finally manages a smile. He takes a deep breath.

There's no better way to say _I need to know what to do with my novel and my life_ , but there are many ways to tell the story. He starts with an overview — "I'm working on a new novel and it's not about me" — and Baekhyun laughs for the next two minutes, gestures for him to continue once he's caught his breath. Then he tells Baekhyun about Jaesuk and Hyerin, friends who have been through too many things already for their friendship to be ruined so easily. He then introduces Yuri, and by this time Baekhyun's nodding slowly, a small smile on his lips. If this is still the same Baekhyun Joonmyun knows, then he's certain Baekhyun has figured out a way to tackle the ending already.

"You're Hyerin, right? And Jaesuk's Chanyeol?"

Joonmyun chokes on his cider. "What— I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but it was obvious." Baekhyun drums his fingers on the table. "I think we both know what you — Hyerin, I mean — should do."

"Change jobs?"

"She already holds a managerial position; it would be _stupid_ to— Joonmyun, can you even hear yourself?"

Joonmyun heaves a sigh and rests his forehead on his clasped hands. "I'm blocked. All roads to the ending are under construction. Jaesuk likes Yuri and Hyerin doesn't know what to do with her life, and she's trying to live a life without Jaesuk now."

"Okay, wait, I keep forgetting Jaesuk's the main in this story." Baekhyun shifts in his seat and leans closer. "What do you think should Jaesuk do?"

Jaesuk… should probably get on with his life, Joonmyun thinks. He's worked so hard to get where he is now, and he has a beautiful and successful woman by his side. There isn't anything else that he needs. His family's kind of broken, but his relatives drive him crazy half the time so the only thing to do is to stay away from them. Three items off Jaesuk's measure of success list — good career, a great girl who could potentially become his girlfriend, a rather _okay_ family life. Except—

"Jaesuk needs a breath of fresh air," Joonmyun answers after a while. His eyes are still fixed on the plate filled with kimchi in front of them.

"A breath of fresh air like? Come on, Joonmyun. _Think._ "

A breath of fresh air means — getting out of his safe zone. Jaesuk asking for a raise because he deserves it and he has _earned it._ Jaesuk possibly moving houses, moving to a place much closer to where he's working at the moment. Jaesuk actually rethinking how he even fell in love with Yuri, in the first place — was he enamoured by the concept of a girl making the first move, or was he really taken by Yuri's personality? Jaesuk addressing the growing distance between him and Hyerin. Jaesuk knocking on Hyerin's door if he wants to talk to her about the whole ordeal.

Joonmyun can picture it now, a cheesy confession scene on Hyerin's doorstep, Hyerin finally admitting her feelings to Jaesuk. Jaesuk might panic or just stare at her or even get mad — it's not fair for Hyerin to come forward with her feelings _then_ expect Jaesuk to just brush it off because _Hey, Jae, it's really fine. I know you and Yuri are in a good place right now and that's what's important, right?_

Chanyeol will probably laugh at Joonmyun silly for a good minute then take him in his arms and ruffle his hair. "What are you talking about?" Chanyeol will probably say, and if Joonmyun can get a happy-enough ending, Chanyeol might even tell him that he and Miyoung are just friends.

"This won't work," Joonmyun finally says. He looks up to meet Baekhyun in the eye but quickly regrets it when Baekhyun gives him a blank look, lips pressed thinly together. "There are no happy endings. I have to be realistic! Chanyeol won't— He won't suddenly come around and say, 'hey, I don't like Miyoung. I don't like girls, for that matter! I like you, Joonmyun.' He won't say that, Baekhyun. _It's not realistic._ "

"And you'd know because?"

"Because he's Chanyeol." Joonmyun exhales loudly and purses his lips. The image of Chanyeol's smile is bright in his mind — it probably hasn't changed from when they'd last seen each other. Chanyeol is almost always wearing a smile that, sometimes, it's already weird. Too many defenses are up, and Joonmyun doesn't have the energy to fight this battle anymore. There's no way to win.

"What would Chanyeol do, then? What would Park Chanyeol, your best friend, the person who knows you inside out, do?"

Easy: Chanyeol will laugh, loud and bright and kind of obnoxious. He'll be able to wipe off that sad look in Joonmyun's eyes with the first few notes of his laughter. He'll rest a hand on the small of Joonmyun's back and look at him for a few good minutes and hold him from an arm's length. Chanyeol will break the eye contact eventually, letting his gaze fall to the tip of Joonmyun's nose and then to his lips. Chanyeol's gaze will linger. Joonmyun will freeze in his spot and wait wait _wait_ until Chanyeol does something.

There are two ways to go about this, Joonmyun thinks — he can push Chanyeol away like he does with everyone else, or he can pull Chanyeol in for a hug and take a chance, take a leap of faith. Chanyeol has a way of making miracles happen no matter how absurd the situation is; Joonmyun just has to take the first step.

"He'd be in his office right now, waiting for a text because I haven't sent him my _good morning_ text yet," Joonmyun says all in one breath. He watches as Baekhyun's lips relax, ease into a smile, and lets the corners of his mouth tug up in response.

"I'm waiting for you to send that text, Joonmyun," Baekhyun half-says, half-chuckles. Joonmyun just shakes his head.

"Already did."


	4. Chapter 4

Joonmyun takes a stop at Horim Art Center before heading to his final destination. "I'm just keeping my promise to a friend," he reasons out when Baekhyun calls him out on stalling and prolonging his very own agony. Baekhyun doesn't press the issue once they step inside the museum, though; Baekhyun considers museums sacred, and despite being unable to be pacified on a normal day, he slips into his very best behavior in the confines of a museum.

"This style looks familiar," Baekhyun mumbles.

"Joonmyun! Glad you can make it."

Joonmyun quickly turns around and smiles at the sight of Kris and his new hair color — he's wearing a light shade of pink now, and despite Kris not being a _pink_ sort of person, the new color suits him well, softens the sharp angles of his face and lends more light to the smile on his lips. "You have very little faith in me," Joonmyun teases, then walks closer to where Kris is to give him a hug.

"You're… here with a friend?" Kris asks, still with his arms around Joonmyun. Joonmyun can feel the tiny jerk of Kris' body, the hitch of the breath, the thundering pulse on the press of Kris' palm on his back.

"Ah, yes. He's a manhwa artist." Joonmyun's straightens out and gestures for Baekhyun to come closer. He keeps a palm flat on Kris' shoulder. "Kris, this is Byun Baekhyun. He's one of our manga artists in Star Media. Baekhyun, this is Kris Wu. He… paints."

"Obviously," Kris and Baekhyun chime simultaneously. Baekhyun is the first to break into laughter; Kris follows within ten seconds of Baekhyun's surrender.

Kris' paintings look much less flat than they had been in the past, probably because of the highlights and shadows and the fact that Kris isn't using geometrical shapes anymore. The proportion is still off, but then that's Kris' style — Kris hates conforming, distorts reality so he can appreciate it better.

"Blond guy with the weird paintings, right?" Baekhyun whispers in Joonmyun's ear somewhere between Kris showing them a painting of a lady in the process of getting dressed and a painting of two children wrestling on grass. Joonmyun nods in response, chuckling lightly when the corners of Baekhyun's lips immediately tug up.

The centerpiece of the exhibit is a triptych, a three-panel painting with each segment being barely an arm's length. Each panel is considerably smaller than the others, isn't framed and is simply mounted on a thick board, but it's more colorful than the rest. The strokes are heavy, and there's hardly any unpainted space. It shows a lot of Kris' old style but somehow shows a bit of his new style, as well — the faces have sharp angles, the eyes are triangles with circles in the middle, and the hair strands are a weird mix of rectangles and simple, free-flowing brush strokes.

Joonmyun takes a step back, and his eyes are drawn to the center panel. He looks to his side. "Taejongdae?" he asks, and Kris doesn't even bother to fight the smile that surfaces on his lips.

The painting at the center is of the retreating figure of two people, a good few inches between them. There's a fork in the background and, judging by the twisting of their torsos, they're headed in different directions. You can only see a hint of their faces, but there's no denying the upward tug on the cheeks.

Joonmyun inches closer to the painting, then looks over his shoulder to meet Kris' eyes. "Are you selling this?"

"It's pretty special, but…" A light furrow of the eyebrows, then. "Yes, I'm selling it. I'll work out the price later, but it's for sale."

Baekhyun walks closer to Kris and whispers something about the piece being exceptionally great, _it's really inspiring, I think it's something a lot of people can relate to._ His eyes are dancing, and on his lips is a wild, uncontrollable, indiscernible kind of smile. Baekhyun's laughter always gives him away, though, and this — light chuckles at first that slowly grow louder — Joonmyun knows very well, means Baekhyun's willing to fight for that painting if the artist isn't up for grabs.

"Consider it sold," Joonmyun says. He lays a hand on Baekhyun's shoulder and gives it a light squeeze, then fishes for his phone from his pocket. His thumbs move quickly across the keyboard as he types, _are you in the office right now? i need your help on something,_ and he hits 'send' without a second thought.

A beep within ten seconds of sending the text. _yeah. i'll be waiting c:_

Kris smiles, relaxed. He extends his hand in Joonmyun's direction, and Joonmyun gives it a firm shake.

 

 

Joonmyun puts on his best apologetic smile when he walks up to Kris and says he can't stay for dinner. "I have a thing with Chanyeol," he admits, and Kris just shakes his head as a smile makes its way to his lips.

"Your friend here, though—"

"Oh, Baekhyun?" Joonmyun chuckles. "He's here to stay."

Kris doesn't say anything, just stands there and stares like he's trying to paint Joonmyun with his eyes the fastest he can. No tricks or flairs this time, though — Kris cracks up within seconds, shaking his head as he says, "Change, huh?"

"Shit, sorry, got too engrossed in the last piece!"

Baekhyun's breathing is heavy when he finally catches up with Joonmyun and Kris. Kris steps to his side to make room for Baekhyun, and Baekhyun turns to him with a wide grin. Baekhyun's swaying lightly from side to side, and he's bobbing his head to a beat only he can hear.

The dialogue is too clear in Joonmyun's mind — _"I think I get it,_ Jaesuk says. _"I think I get it now._

"Hey, I'll catch you two again sometime. Need to sort out some stuff," Joonmyun says before giving Baekhyun and Kris a quick hug. He doesn't look over his shoulder, doesn't retrace his steps, pace too quick that his balance can't keep up and he ends up bumping into someone and falling to the floor.

The first thing he does is to feel for his phone; the second, to check if anything has been taken from him.

"Oh, sor— Joonmyun?"

This isn't quite right. This voice, he normally hears in the office, in _Chanyeol's office_ , engaging Chanyeol in a conversation that is a mix of work and play. He's heard his name being said in this voice before — an image of a beautiful girl with long locks that stretch past her shoulders, a girl with bright eyes and an equally bright smile. Joonmyun blinks until his vision is back in focus, and leans back a little when the girl extends a hand in his direction.

"Miyoung?" _Miyoung and company?_ his brain registers when he sees another familiar face. "You're out during office hours?"

"Business meeting," Miyoung mumbles. The other familiar face — _Kim Minseok,_ one of the editors handling the company's daily paper — nods in agreement, a grin on his lips. "A client sought our help on a campaign and they'll be using both magazine and newspaper to advertise their brand and—"

"Chanyeol's in the office, right?"

Miyoung furrows her eyebrows for a while but keeps the smile on her lips, anyway. "Yes? I don't know his every move, though. Aren't you supposed to be the one who's got his schedule memorized?"

"Right."

Joonmyun takes Miyoung's hand and dusts himself off before giving the two a curt nod. To Minseok, he says, "I hope the meeting goes well," and he walks to the subway station as fast as he can, balance finally working with him and keeping him on his feet.

 

 

The office is still bustling with activity when he arrives. It's not even the second week of the month yet, when all departments are somehow loaded with so much work to do and people are barely getting any rest. He maneuvers his way through the desks, offering a smile to whoever calls his name. There are many faces that he recognizes, and in the sea of office ruckus, Joonmyun finds Chanyeol near the copier a few feet away from his office.

"Hey," he says, waving lightly. Chanyeol gives him a small smile. He can see the sharp rise of Chanyeol's shoulders, the way his Adam's Apple bobs. Small details, explosive effects. He can feel his hands shaking.

"Come inside," Chanyeol replies, opening the door for Joonmyun.

It's the first time in two weeks that Joonmyun has seen Chanyeol, the first time in his life that he's facing Chanyeol as a character in his novel and an editor and his friend. He can easily lead with a progress report, say, _I'm about 90% done, and I just need to figure out your feelings for me,_ but nothing's ever easy. His throat is dry and his tongue is numb and Chanyeol's too far away, behind his desk, and Joonmyun standing at the center of the room.

"I'm sorry for being a douche," he tries. Chanyeol chuckles. "For not picking up and for ignoring your texts and for basically not being the friend that I should be."

"Don't worry," Chanyeol replies, laughter still fresh on his lips. "It's not as if I'll sue you or something for not being a good friend. This isn't a job."

"Ah, well, about that—"

Joonmyun walks over to where Chanyeol is, stopping when he Chanyeol's merely a few good inches away. "I've got… about 90% done," he begins. He looks up at Chanyeol. There's a hint of amusement in the way Chanyeol smiles, some confusion in the way he furrows his eyebrows. Chanyeol cocks his head to the side and Joonmyun takes it as a sign to go on. "I've hit a roadblock, though, somewhere towards the end. I can't seem to figure out how to resolve the tension between the characters."

Chanyeol sort of snorts and cackles at the same time. "I can't help you, Joonmyun. You haven't even given me an overview of the story yet. And nope, I don't peek at your work-in-progress when you're out. I never did."

Joonmyun laughs a little, then nods slowly. He takes Chanyeol's hands in his. Chanyeol's fingers are cold.

"It's about two people who have been friends since college. They're… not exactly a good match? Their personalities don't really complement each other — people say they're both too nice, but they know very well people just can't see what lies beneath the calculated smiles."

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. "Interesting. Okay, go on."

"Well, let's just say they're both kinda stupid," Joonmyun continues. He begins to rub circles on the back of Chanyeol's hands, and Chanyeol takes a deep breath. Chanyeol's hands are shaking, but then it's hard to tell if it's actually him who's shivering when all the feeling has left Joonmyun's fingers. "More of the girl than the guy, actually. Only about three-fourths into the story does she realize that they guy has always expressed interest in her. But then… you can't blame her. The guy keeps talking about this other girl and well, she _is_ pretty, but—"

"But she's not quite like his best friend," Chanyeol finishes. Joonmyun nods slowly, gulps hard. "Not quite the girl he has always been in love with."

"But she doesn't know that yet."

"Of course, she doesn't." There's a light upward tug on the corners of Chanyeol's mouth. "She's too busy thinking of herself to even notice that the person she can't live without is right in front of her."

It's Joonmyun's turn to laugh. Even now, with the silence and the heavy air around them, even with two weeks of little to no contact, Chanyeol can still read him like an open book, and he hasn't even made an effort to close his pages. _Too easy,_ Joonmyun thinks. All he needs is that one line, that pivotal part of the story for things to progress.

"So I think… maybe… maybe I should do something. For the sake of the plot."

Joonmyun can feel the Chanyeol's knuckles digging into his skin, can hear the sharp intake of breath from Chanyeol. He can feel the pulse in Chanyeol's hand growing stronger. 

"For the sake of the plot." Chanyeol gulps hard. The corners of his mouth tug up like stimulus; the warmth surges through Joonmyun's veins. Chanyeol isn't even touching him.

"Maybe?"

"Maybe."

A sharp intake of breath, then Joonmyun drops his hands to his sides.

There's the shiver of anticipation in the way Joonmyun's lips quiver, in the way he reaches up tentatively, almost bumping into Chanyeol's nose as he tiptoes. He begins to appreciate the details, to take everything in — the light scars on Chanyeol's lips from when he worries them, traces of crumbs at the corners of Chanyeol's lips — Chanyeol loves having pre-dinner snacks at six in the evening. Chanyeol and his sunshine smile peeking through the small parting of his lips, the light upward tug of his cheeks. Chanyeol and his big, warm hands snaking up Joonmyun's back, one hand stopping on his waist and the other shivering at the base of his nape.

_Maybe._

Joonmyun presses close, just enough for their lips to brush. There's the familiar warmth and it feels wrong, almost like kissing his cousin or a relative or someone he's just met, and it's sick, and it's everything Joonmyun has ever dreamed Chanyeol to taste like — bittersweet, a lot like coffee and late-night talks on the phone about fleshing out plot and linking stories to real lives, morning greetings, the kind of flavor that just fills you, completes you.

Joonmyun catches Chanyeol's upper lip, tilting his head as Chanyeol deepens the kiss. Chanyeol's hands have moved to his head, his hair, fingers entangled, tugging hard. He's shaking all over. Joonmyun decides between a chuckle and choked laughter, but the thought disappears when Chanyeol licks the cavern of his mouth, sucks on his tongue, cheeks tugging up against Joonmyun's skin when Joonmyun's breath hitches. They pull apart with a light 'pop', a string of saliva hanging from the edges of their lips.

"Since when?" Chanyeol asks, breathing still heavy. His hands haven't left Joonmyun's hair. Joonmyun buries his face in Chanyeol's chest, smiling when he hears the heavy thrumming.

"Ever since," he confesses. Chanyeol's smile is warm and bright; the feeling of Chanyeol's lips on his is even warmer.

 

 

Joonmyun wakes up with a tiny jerk at three in the morning.

He's halfway through getting to his feet to look for his phone or a pen and a piece of paper when Chanyeol snakes his arms around his waist. "The idea's not going anywhere," Chanyeol mumbles, then pulls him down until his face is pressed to Chanyeol's chest. He sees the words clearer now — in the crinkles of Chanyeol's clothes, scrawled on the column of Chanyeol's neck, the magic word for 'ending' burning bring on Chanyeol's lips. Joonmyun cranes his neck, bumps his nose into Chanyeol's chin, and soon Chanyeol erupts into a peal of laughter and they're both up, laughing at each other silly at an ungodly hour.

"You're not letting me sleep until you write that down, are you?" Chanyeol says now, lips tugged up in a lazy smile.

"Your fault, not mine," Joonmyun retorts. He gets on his knees, straddling Chanyeol, and presses a light kiss on the tip of Chanyeol's nose. "Muse's fault, not mine."

Chanyeol shakes his head. Joonmyun traces the angle of Chanyeol's jaw with his fingers, then leans closer until their lips meet.

The muse is here to stay.

 

 

Joonmyun turns in the first draft two weeks after, after Kyungsoo goes through the entire story in one sitting and gets this, "Really, really insane urge to draw the whole thing. Turn it into an animation. I don't even do that shit."

"It's that good?" Joonmyun asks.

"It's like a telenovela or something." Kyungsoo scoffs, but the small smile on his lips betrays him. "I hate it."

"You've violated the top three rules writing rules that I've set and you _expect_ me to read through the whole thing?" Chanyeol says now from across his office desk. Joonmyun still feels like a kid sometimes, when Chanyeol makes him take the seat opposite Chanyeol and sifts through his manuscript in his presence. It's sort of unnerving, but the reward is in the soft smile on Chanyeol's lips as he reads though the story, the most exaggerated facial expressions surfacing on his features when he gets immersed in the plot.

"You told me to try something new. I broke the rules — that's my idea of change." He grins at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol only ever raises an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you proud of me?"

"So proud, I'm actually close to tears," Chanyeol replies. Chanyeol sticks out his tongue, then thumbs through the corners of the manuscript. "You know my coffee order. Thanks, babe. I love you."

"Babe? Really, now. Babe?"

Chanyeol tears his eyes from the manuscript and his glasses slide off the bridge of his nose. Joonmyun reaches forward on instinct and pushes them back, letting his index finger draw a line up to the tip of Chanyeol's nose. "Yes, _babe._ You have a problem with that?" Chanyeol asks, and Joonmyun shakes his head and leans back, then straightens out his shirt.

"I could get used to it," he says just before he leaves. He turns on his heel, Chanyeol's smile burning brightly at the back of his eyelids.

 

 

The thing with having a manhwa artist as a friend is that the direct response to a good story is an even better illustration that somehow ends up as the cover of the book.

They're inaugurating Chanyeol's new office by unwrapping Kyungsoo's copy of Joonmyun's new book. Joonmyun had half the mind to bring wine and cheese, but Kyungsoo promised to treat them to samgyupsal as soon as Chanyeol got out of his meeting. "Treat is as the reception of your wedding. You just have to imagine the wedding part," Joonmyun remembers Kyungsoo saying, and he just shook his head and circled an arm around Kyungsoo's shoulder to pull Kyungsoo close and ruffle his hair.

"I hope you didn't credit me under my screen name," Kyungsoo mumbles as he removes the thin plastic cover of the book. "I love how they used spot varnish on the title in the spine. The title that I _handwrote_ , by the way. No fonts; just magic."

Joonmyun reaches over to pat Kyungsoo's hair, and Kyungsoo scowls in immediate response. "I get it — you're amazing. Thank you for your help—"

"Shit," Kyungsoo interrupts. "It's says D.O. here in the credits. Who the fuck would even—"

The door to Chanyeol's office opens, and Joonmyun quickly gets up to help Chanyeol balance the pile of books he's holding. "I see you've done the unboxing without me. Very thoughtful of you—" Joonmyun directs a grin at Chanyeol and cocks his head in Kyungsoo's direction. "— Kyungsoo! You like how the cover came out?"

Kyungsoo snaps the book shut and thrusts it in Joonmyun's direction. "Take it. Take it away from me. I can't live with this screen name anymore. I'm going to talk to Lu Han and tell him that I want my works credited under—"

Chanyeol snorts. "I knew it," Kyungsoo grumbles. "Thanks for the copy, Joonmyun. I'll leave this here first. Dedication, please? I'll come back after I've maimed my editor."

"True love right there," Chanyeol chimes and exhales loudly for effect. Kyungsoo simply waves him off and excuses himself.

"I like how Kyungsoo made you much, much smaller in his illustration," Joonmyun says as he picks up the book. He holds it from an arm's length then draws it close to his nose, thumbs through the pages so he can take a whiff of the scent. The first press always smells the sweetest, and Joonmyun closes his eyes as he takes everything in. _Tradition._

Chanyeol wraps his arms around Joonmyun's waist and rests his chin on Joonmyun's shoulder. "I think you missed the part where you're _actually_ wearing heels, though," he manages to finish even before he can erupt into a peal of laughter, and Joonmyun elbows Chanyeol in the stomach lightly, turns his head to the side until he can feel Chanyeol's nose poking his skin.

"Wait for the second installment. Hyerin will be growing a few more centimeters."

"Oh yeah?"

Joonmyun turns around and grabs Chanyeol by his collar, pulling him down, closer. "I don't need heels to do this," he whispers. There's another sliver of laughter bubbling on Chanyeol's lips, and Chanyeol's shaking all over, and it's becoming really, really increasingly hard to keep to keep it together, and his knees are giving him away. He takes a deep breath and presses close, their mouths sliding inelegantly as he takes in all of Chanyeol's laughter, the feeling of the corners of Chanyeol's lips tugging up, the pounding in his chest.

"I'm interested to know what you're capable of when you're in heels," Chanyeol comments when they pull away.

Joonmyun slaps Chanyeol lightly on the arm. This kind of change might take some getting used to.

"Maybe," he says. The smile on his lips widens. "Definitely."


End file.
